Inadvertent Adventures

by Jones, Loren K.

  The captain signaled the communications operator to cut the signal and turned toward the men and women who were gathered behind him. “Well, Pio, are you ready?” Captain Caudell asked as he faced his executive officer.

  “Yes, sir. I don’t expect any trouble. These Confederate freighters aren’t even allowed to carry hand-held weapons. We’ll make them take the ship and cargo to Macedonia as planned.” He grinned as he tightened his helmet seal once again. “We’ll meet you there.”

  Piotr and twenty men and women floated across the space between the two ships with the aid of their suit propulsion packs. It was a long flight, and the nav shields of both ships were down. If anything was going to go wrong, this was when it was going to happen.

  *

  Ann and Sterling shared a look when the raider captain had finished his rant. “Oh, good,” Sterling finally said, “their captain is a vacuum-head.”

  “He sounds like he’s been watching too many dramatic recreations of fake historical events. I know the European Hegemony Systems teach that we started the war by stealing Tigris and Caspian, but this vapor-brain sounds like he actually believes it,” Ann said as she shook her head.

  “Well he sounds dense enough to actually fire on us, so we need to ‘Do Unto Others’ at our first opportunity,” Sterling said as he looked at Amanda.

  “Status, Miss Carter?” Captain Stevenson asked.

  “I have his nose on my forward optics, Ma’am,” Amanda replied without looking away from her station. “He’s too short to hit with both weapons at the same time. I can’t get the depression at this range.”

  “Noted. Helm, as soon as the weapon’s officer fires her forward weapon, use your thrusters to swing our nose away so she can use her aft weapon. On your toes, Miss Carter. You won’t have long.”

  Both Sterling and Amanda answered, “Yes, Ma’am,” as they prepared to carry out their orders.

  Amanda announced, “I have optical lock on what the specs say is the plating adjacent to their bridge. Request weapon’s free.”

  “Weapon’s free,” Ann answered and Amanda pressed the firing key for her forward gamma ray laser. A hatch at the very tip of the Revenge’s nose opened, and a small cannon emerged. The capacitor banks that powered the weapon were already charged, and as soon as the servos matched the commanded target, the weapon discharged. A beam of compressed high-energy photons sliced out from the Admiral Ann’s Revenge and impaled the pirate vessel. Hull plates vaporized and bulkheads exploded as the unshielded ship was skewered.

  “Forward weapon capacitors are expended. Aft weapon coming online,” Amanda announced as Sterling swung the nose of the Admiral Ann’s Revenge away from their enemy. “Aft weapon firing,” she announced just a breath later and a fresh knife of photons cut across the distance between the ships, the motion of the Admiral Ann’s Revenge swinging the blade of light up the side of the other ship, opening it like a gutted fish. “Weapons off. Fore and aft capacitor banks are fully discharged. Five seconds till forward recharge is complete.”

  “Helm, get us clear. Get the navigational shielding back up as soon as possible. Nav, take the radio and squawk for help on the GUARD frequency. Well done, Guns. Well done indeed,” Ann said as she punched buttons on her console. “We’ll leave the cleanup to the System Security force. I want as much space between us and that ship as we can manage in case it explodes.”

  *

  Captain Caudell barely had enough time to blink when his plan came apart. His own weapons officer was lounging back with his panel secured when the alarm announcing incoming fire sounded. A weapon’s system had just come alive on the freighter—which was impossible, because freighters were, by definition, unarmed. The inexperienced captain and crew reacted as the inexperienced usually do: everyone froze for just an instant, and that instant was all the time it took. The Revenge’s well-aimed shot vaporized everyone on the bridge as it blew completely through the ship.

  The bulk of the crew of the Aristophanes died when the second shot cut the ship open lengthwise. All but a few of the ship’s compartments were opened to space, but that really didn’t matter. Fragmented metal and shards of plastic had killed most of the crew immediately, and the few survivors fought to stay alive while their air leaked into space.

  *

  Pio and his boarding party were still in space when the bulk of the freighter swung away from them. He spun in place to see geysers of air and water vapor erupting from the Aristophanes. He saw the second beam of compressed photons cut his ship open for more than half her length. Then there was a scream on the suit radio channel and he spun himself around again. The aft end of the freighter was pointed straight at them, and a glow was building deep in her engines. He had time to say, “Oh, shit,” before the Admiral Ann’s Revenge lit off her main engines and carbonized the twenty-one members of the boarding party before scattering their ashes into the eternity of space.

  *

  Ann kept the Admiral Ann’s Revenge ten thousand kilometers from the sparking hulk of the raider. She wasn’t sure how much damage they had done to the little ship and she wasn’t going to risk staying in close proximity to her when there was no telling if or when her fuel might ignite. She also had Amanda bring her weapons fully on line and lock her targeting systems on the raider. Any hostile move would be instantly answered.

  The reply from System Security arrived five hours later. “Admiral Ann’s Revenge, this is the Pride of New Zealand on a course to intercept you. Have you observed any indications that the raider has any survivors?”

  “Pride of New Zealand, this is Captain Stevenson of the Admiral Ann’s Revenge. We are standing well away and have seen no indications of survivors outside the hull. We will remain on station until you get here to take over.” Ann closed her mic and looked over at Sterling. “How long for a reply?”

  “Another four hours based on the location tag that was attached to that message. They’ll probably take another six or seven days to get here if they’re already on the way.” Sterling looked over at her and shrugged. “We can’t do any good here, Ann.”

  “I know, but I won’t condemn any survivors to drift until their air runs out. That ship doesn’t have a beacon, so the only way they’ll be found is if we mark their location by staying here. Our schedule isn’t that tight.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Sterling answered. “Navigator, compute our course to New Frankfurt with a starting point seven days along our current course.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Denise answered and started her calculations.

  Ann said, “Send another message to the Pride. I want to send off our logs and recordings, audio and visual, internal and external,” as she stared at the view screen. “It’s what I would ask for in these circumstances. And you’d better include our ‘Armed Merchantman’ paperwork as well.”

  Sterling pushed a few buttons, and then looked at her. “Ready to record a message to attach to the logs, Captain.”

  “Begin recording. This is CSS Reserve Admiral Annette Stevenson, commanding officer of the independent freighter Admiral Ann’s Revenge.” She continued with a report of the incident from first contact until they were clear of the raider. “The ship never identified herself, nor did the captain. We are attaching all of our logs and recordings to this message for System Justice Review. Stevenson out.” She looked at Sterling and he killed the recorder. “Tag it and send it off. The Pride will have time to review it before they get here. That should make them and Maori System Justice easier to deal with.”

  The Pride of New Zealand arrived seven days later and matched velocities with the raider. “Admiral Ann’s Revenge, thank you for your assistance. We’ll take it from here. Any survivors will be tried for piracy based on your logs and whatever we can retrieve of their logs. Since you disabled her, what do you want done with the salvage?”

  “Pride of New Zealand, please record this,” Ann answered and gave them a moment before continuing. “The crew of the Admiral Ann’s Revenge donate any salvage
payment to the Navy Survivors Fund. We leave System Security in charge of the prisoners and their fate. We now request permission to resume our course and leave the system.”

  “Admiral Ann’s Revenge, we have your request on record. Permission granted to resume your course, and we offer our thanks for your part in the interdiction of piracy. Pride of New Zealand out.”

  “You heard the lady, Mister Stevenson. Let’s get going.”

  Chapter 14

  THE ADMIRAL ANN’S REVENGE NESTLED INTO the docking port of New Frankfurt’s Space Dock One as she took on fuel and provisions. A woman bustled forward as soon as the hatch opened. “Do you have my pillars?” she asked anxiously.

  “I believe so,” Ann answered. “Who are you, Ma’am?”

  “Oh, I’m Gennifer Von Corvak, of the Surrimat Von Corvaks. We ordered the flame wood pillars for our new mansion,” she explained.

  “I don’t know that ‘pillars’ is the right word, Ma’am,” Ann said in a cautious tone. “They are unfinished logs.”

  “But that’s not what we ordered! We ordered two hundred, fifty-foot long, natural flame wood pillars,” Missus Von Corvak almost whined.

  “It was probably the ‘natural’ bit that got you. You got the pillars in their ‘natural’ condition,” Sterling said as he backed up and motioned for the ladies to precede him.

  “Oh, this is terrible. Terrible. This won’t do at all. I should return them, but we need them now. Very well, I’ll take receipt of them. We’ll just have to have them machined here. Terrible. Just terrible.” She muttered, then signed the delivery contract and walked away.

  Ann shrugged. “I guess we unload them here. She can have them transported planet-side when she’s ready.” She and Sterling moved together and opened the massive cargo hatch.

  It took seven hours to unload the logs from the Revenge’s hold, and by then the woman had returned with help. They started taking the logs away almost as fast as they had been unloaded, and the woman stood there moaning about it the whole time.

  A representative of the Dresden Agro-Commerce Collective approached Ann just as the unloading process was complete. “Captain Stevenson, may I have a moment of your time?” he said as he came to a stop beside Ann.

  Ann turned toward him and bowed her head respectfully when she saw the cut of his suit and the DA-CC badge on his breast. “How may I be of service, Sir?” she asked as she faced him.

  “We have a shipment of Tabasco-Pears bound for Nepal, and I was wondering if you had arranged another cargo yet.”

  Ann shook her head. “We’ve registered, but you’re the first person to approach us. How large is your cargo?”

  “Twenty-tons.”

  Ann had to shake her head. “I’m sorry, but that’s just too small for us.”

  “But these T-Pears are already ripe! They can’t wait more than another ten days before they become inedible. They must be delivered immediately.”

  Ann shook her head again. “I’m sorry, but the margin on such a small shipment wouldn’t even cover our fuel. Have you approached any of the other small freighters?”

  “I have,” the man sighed. “They all said the same thing you did. Too small, and not enough profit.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir, but that is the nature of our business.”

  The man nodded and walked away. Ann thought that was the end of it until he returned three hours later. “Captain?” he said as he walked up to Ann.

  “Yes?”

  “I have an additional cargo for you, if you will take the T-Pear run to Nepal.”

  Ann looked at him closely. “What kind of cargo and how much?”

  “Eighteen thousand tons of nova-wheat,” he replied.

  “Bagged?”

  “Bagged. We’d normally use one of the big carriers, but it’s important enough to get the T-Pears to Nepal on schedule that we’ll absorb the extra expense on the wheat. Will you take the cargo now?”

  Ann nodded. “Have it brought down. Do you have a contract ready, or do we need to go to your office?”

  The man smiled and pulled a ‘Pad from his breast pocket. “Right here. There is one additional item. Light weight, but fragile, and somewhat difficult to handle.”

  “Oh?”

  “A passenger.”

  “Oh. We’re not a liner, Sir.”

  The man nodded. “I understand. Is there any way you could take her?”

  “We do have several unoccupied staterooms,” Ann admitted. “We don’t have anything to keep her entertained, though, and our meals tend to be pretty basic.”

  “That will be fine. She wants to go see the universe. Let her start with a taste of what the rest of the universe is really like.”

  “Who is this girl?” Ann asked as she reached out for the ‘Pad.

  “Katrina Von Rubenstein, the daughter of our Chairman.”

  *

  The loading process was almost completed when a young woman walked up to Ann and stopped at her shoulder. “Excuse me,” she said in a deferential tone.

  “Yes?” Ann said, turning to face the girl.

  “I’m Kat Rubenstein. Your passenger.”

  Ann looked the girl up and down quickly. She was dressed in the height of the current teenage fashion. As far as Ann was concerned, it made her look like a derelict. Artfully torn and ragged pants. A man’s shirt that was probably too large for her father, unbuttoned and tucked in on just the right front corner. Hair sticking out at every angle. It was only her pristine cleanliness that separated her from an alley-dwelling bum. “You are assigned stateroom twenty. Did you bring your suit?”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” the girl answered. She pointed behind her to where a hover-cart waited. “Mister Hardin said to pack light: suit and one satchel.”

  Ann nodded. “Take your things to number twenty and put on a ship’s coverall. I’d hate to think how much trouble putting on your suit will be if you’re wearing that outfit.” The girl’s mouth firmed in defiance, but Ann just gave her a quelling look. “This is not a liner with seal-gel between double hulls. Before we undock you’ll be required to prove that you can don your suit alone in a reasonable amount of time.” She smiled and shook her head. “I’ll send Miss Carter to check on you.”

  Katrina took a deep breath and finally nodded. “Yes, Ma’am. Can I purchase ship’s coveralls on board?”

  “Young lady, this is not a liner. You will have to make any purchases before we leave. Didn’t they tell you what to bring?”

  “I didn’t think they were serious,” Katrina murmured. “I don’t own any of those suits. They’re-ugly.”

  “They are made for convenience when hooking up suit plumbing. Go stow your suit and satchel, then go back out to the elevators and go up to the Delta ring. I’d recommend a crew uniform store. I don’t suppose you’re going to want to wear them anywhere but in space, so you don’t need them fancy. And you don’t need to be fashionable on this ship. There’s no one to impress with how you look.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Katrina answered and moved toward the ship, her baggage obediently following in her wake. She returned just ten minutes later on her way out.

  “Don’t be too long,” Ann said as she passed. “We are departing in three hours. Don’t be late or you’ll be left behind.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Katrina replied in a tone that said how tired she was of being polite.

  *

  Bart Roberts edged up to Ann’s shoulder and asked, “Who’s she?” in a tone Ann knew all too well.

  “Down boy! Heel!” she snapped as she smiled up at him. “She’s our passenger. Her daddy could probably buy the Revenge with his pocket change, so keep your hands to yourself and be polite. Surprisingly, she doesn’t seem to be that spoiled.”

  “Cute kid,” Bart said as he gazed after her. “Can I—?”

  Ann rolled her eyes and said, “Go ahead. She’s headed to a uniform shop up on Delta ring to pick up some ship’s coveralls. Make sure you’re both back in time for departure, Bart. I won’t
wait for you. Especially for you.”

  Bart laughed as he left the ship. He could still see their passenger ahead, and he hurried to catch up with her. He didn’t get too close as they boarded the elevators. He just hung back and watched her. She looked like she was about nineteen, in spite of the outfit. She moved with a confident air about her, one that said she was comfortable rather than snobby. At the Delta ring he followed her out of the elevator and toward the shopping plaza.

  *

  Katrina stopped in the middle of the station shops and looked around. There were at least fifty clothes shops here, ranging from the trendy to the utilitarian. Taking a deep breath, she headed for one of the uniform shops like the captain had suggested. She noticed the young man following her, but she ignored him. Guys like him always followed her.

  The uniform shop carried every imaginable color and pattern, and some patterns and color combinations that showed no imagination at all. She was looking at a saffron yellow suit when the young man approached her.

  “I wouldn’t buy that one,” he said in a deep, melodious voice. “That’s the color of the Amberson Cartel. Besides, it’d make you look like someone dipped you in mustard.”

  Katrina giggled in spite of herself. “Oh, and what would you suggest?” she asked as she looked up at him. He was much more handsome up close than she had at first suspected.

  “Blue. Something to go with your eyes,” Bart replied, pulling out an electric blue suit and handing it to her.

  “My eyes are not blue. They are hazel.”

  “It’s still a good color for you,” he said, smiling down at her.

  Katrina had to agree. “I only have to have enough for five days in space,” she said as she picked up a deep burgundy suit.

  “Three should do. There’s a laundro-bot on the Revenge, so that’s all most of us have,” he said casually, but Katrina caught the reference immediately.

  “The Admiral Ann’s Revenge? You’re from the ship? Did the captain send you along to watch over me, like I’m some irresponsible child?” she snapped in an angry tone.