“The secondary docks.”
“Secondary docks?” Tristan asked in confusion.
“The ones we don’t go to and avoid at all costs. Terra Octodecimus services pirates now and then, and the secondary docks are where their ships would be if they’re here.”
“If you know the pirates are here, why not just arrest them?”
“And put them where?” Muher asked. “Half this station sympathizes with them. The pirates bring in goods they don’t often see, big cruisers from the inner system don’t stop here as often as they should—then tend to push on to Terra Vingensumus.”
“That’s criminal!”
“Yes, sir, but there’s more profit the further out you get. Once you reach these parts, a lot of the people in the inner system and the pirates are regarded in the same light for the most part on the smaller stations—well, except for those that fly Vermin ships. The Vermin have raided in this close before and it was a massacre.”
“So the ships that came after us probably weren’t docked here?”
“I doubt it,” Muher said, “but I am going to check it out as soon as you are safe at the Guild offices.”
Tristan was quiet, digesting the information. The cruisers had Navy escorts, so they were purposefully flying past these stations, leaving them to the pirates. It wasn’t a good situation. As they rounded the corner, he noticed a huge banner declaring “Loyal to Guild and Dragon” on one rusted wall of a large open area. Across from them he could see the Guild insignia on a door. Looking down, he noted that the blue line led towards the Guild offices. He opened the door and a journeyman Weaver looked up at him with a bored sigh. His eyes widened, then he stood, snapping to attention.
“Master Tristan! Sir! I didn’t know you were coming!” he nearly shouted.
Tristan hid a smile, after being onboard he’d nearly forgotten that he was recognizable to every member of the Guild. “It’s okay, I just came in with the Winged Victory and I need to use the secure line to speak with the Guild Master.” Since the incident with the ship’s nav systems, Tristan didn’t trust the line in his cabin to be secure.
“Of course! This way!” The poor man was nearly falling over his feet as he led Tristan down the corridor towards an office. “Will this do?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“I’ll be around, don’t leave without me,” Muher said, snapped off a salute and left.
Tristan waited until they left then closed the door, locking it automatically and then walked to the desk. He sat down and powered up the communications system, typing in his secure code and dialing straight through to the Guild Master’s office.
“Tristan! What the hell are you doing on Terra Octodecimus?” Rhoads demanded as he answered the call.
“We got caught out by pirates, the ship was off course and they did enough damage to require a stopover.” Tristan sighed.
“Okay, give me the full report.”
Tristan started talking, waiting between the moments when the Guild Master would break his narration with a string of expletives. By the time he had brought Rhoads completely up-to-date, it was chiming two bells in the first dog watch. “And so, last I heard, Muher and Hall were going to try and remove some of the suspect pressed men at the station, but they were expecting a fight from the captain, so I don’t know what’s going to happen with that.”
“We knew there was something wrong with the ship, we just didn’t know how wrong.” Rhoads sighed. “The Navy has made a move in the Worlds Council to downgrade the Guild again, it was overturned as soon as it was suggested, but there were murmurs afterwards that the Navy would soon have a way to circumvent us entirely.”
“There’s no way they can, Brian, unless the rumors are true.”
“And if they are, then we are in trouble,” the Guild Master said, his voice worried. “We have to find out about the sealed deck. Muher reported to Darius about it, and the Guild Dragons are insisting someone get in there. They fear the worst.”
“I’m beginning to. Riggan, my servant, said someone saw someone going in there, then re-soldering it.”
“Sounds like gossip.”
“True, but his gossip is very reliable.” Tristan laughed. “In fact, he should work in intelligence. He’s very good at it.”
“We’ll see what we can do. You need to be careful, Tristan, there is an ugly mood brewing.”
“I know, it is onboard too.”
“We also just received a report that the Vermin have been sighted heading in, a major invasion force. The Navy has started massing ships. If we get hit by a full Vermin assault while the Victory is in dry dock, even with the rest of the ships, we don’t stand a chance.”
“Yeah, and the attack by the pirates was designed to cripple the ship. They were using combination loads and a particle cutter on the lower decks. The first officer said they knew exactly where to hit to do the most damage. He thinks they wanted to put the ship out of action, not take it.”
“Not good,” Rhoads said.
“No, not good at all.” Tristan broke the connection and leaned back in the chair.
Someone knocked on the door, Tristan got up and unlocked it. The journeyman stuck his head in. “Excuse me sir, but there is a message for you.”
“A message?”
“Yes, it was dropped off for you three days ago by one of the delivery services.” The man held out a paper envelope. It was sealed with a wax seal.
“Thank you,” Tristan said, taking it.
He looked at it carefully, it had his name on it. Running his hand over it, he made sure there was no electronic device in it—although the scan on the door should have picked that up. Once he was fairly confident it wasn’t booby-trapped he carefully broke the seal and pulled out the single sheet of paper.
Master Tristan, there is active recruiting among the pirates by an unknown group. They are particularly seeking out those ships that are former Vermin vessels. No word as to why, but there is to be a rendezvous in the space between Terra Octodecimus and Terra Vingensumus within the week. Beware.
The letter was unsigned, but the handwriting was oddly familiar. Tristan tried to remember where he had seen it before. They used paper at the Guild for most of their important information, and handwritten at that, but he couldn’t place it.
He did wonder how the writer knew he would be on Terra Octodecimus in time to receive the message.
XVI
The office was quiet and Tristan took the opportunity to make a few more calls on the secure line. He brought Darius up-to-date as well. The Elder dragon was deeply concerned about the news he was receiving, and passed along the information that a dragon had run across a Vermin ship on the outer Rim less than a day before. The dragons were sure it was a scout for the incoming invasion fleet. It had been alone, and there had been no other ships within three days’ flight, but the dragons were still convinced that it was the first of many. The Navy, in this case, was agreeing with the dragons, and had called in most of the inner system fleet and sent them out towards the Rim; since they were still not sure where the Vermin might try and break through, they were patrolling a huge arcing ring that left them spread out and easy targets, unless they got enough warning to pull the fleet in for action.
While he was waiting for Muher to return, Tristan put together a list of things he wanted to purchase in the shops. It was really more an excuse to get out and get a feeling of the mood of the station. Was the pro-Guild banner there by choice or by force? He really didn’t like to think of the idea of the Guild forcing itself on the population, but he honestly had no experience with the outer stations, much less the Rim, and so he wanted to experience it for himself. Once he was done with the list, he stared at the paper in the desk drawer. Pulling out a sheet, he wrote a note to the anonymous person who had sent him the message. After sealing it with his personal seal, he carried it down to the front desk.
“Sir!” The journeyman jumped up.
“Relax,” Tristan said, smiling. �
��Can you get this to the messenger who brought you the note the other day?”
The man looked nervous for a moment. “Um…”
“No questions asked, I just want it delivered.”
“I can do that, sir.” He took the note from Tristan and set it carefully on the desk. “They should have it tonight.”
“Thank you.”
Tristan walked across the lobby, even the Guild offices had a more industrial feel than the ones on other stations he’d been to before. These were decorated, they’d taken the time to paint the exposed pipes and conduits, but they hadn’t hidden them behind panels. That fact interested him. It was almost like it was a mark of pride that they hadn’t covered anything, only colored what was there. It made him anxious to get out and see more of the station. He was actually considering setting out on his own when Muher showed up again.
“What happened to you?” Tristan asked. The man was sporting a black eye.
“I had a disagreement with someone,” the general said with a grin. “I won the argument. I meant to be back sooner. Would you like to see some of the station before we go back?”
“Are you going to be having more discussions?” Tristan asked.
“You never know.” Muher cracked his knuckles. “I never start them.”
“I’m sure you don’t.” Tristan walked back to the office and grabbed his bag and list. “Ready.”
“Then let’s go—the shopping district first?”
“That sounds good.”
They walked out of the building and followed a green line on the floor that led across the plaza in front of the Guild office and down a short corridor. On the other side was the busiest shopping area Tristan had ever been in. It was also the most foreign. Instead of shops, many sellers were hawking their wares from stalls backed up against the rusting walls. The wide area had a small park in the center, the trees and grass there were carefully tended, but even they looked a little… Tristan tried to think of a good word. Wild was the only one that really came to mind. He followed Muher into the throng of people.
A man was playing a violin, the case open in front of him. Tristan stopped and listened for a moment, then tossed a few coins into the case. The man smiled at him and kept playing. As they walked further into the shopping area, Tristan realized that people were beginning to notice his uniform and were glancing his way, some were outright staring at him. Muher had moved so he was half a step ahead of him, his weapon’s arm free. Tristan didn’t get a sense of danger from the crowd, however, it was more curiosity.
“Master Tristan!” a familiar voice called out, Tristan turned and smiled as Thom hurried through the crowd towards them. It took him half a second to register the fact that the first officer was not in uniform. “What brings you out shopping?”
“Just thought I’d get a few things while we were in dock,” Tristan answered. “And you?”
“Oh, you know.” Thom made a vague motion with his hand.
“Yeah,” Muher said, narrowing his eyes.
A couple of well-dressed women walked past, slowing to look at the three of them. Tristan felt a blush creep up his cheeks. Muher took full advantage of it, however, and bowed formally to the women, grinning at them. “Can I offer you ladies escort?” the general asked.
“Thank you,” one of them said, twittering. The general smiled at Tristan and Thom, took the women’s arms and led them away.
“Is he on the prowl? Or just being kind?” Thom asked, falling in beside Tristan.
“I don’t know. He’s already had a disagreement that led to a black eye.”
“There’s an odd mood on the station, Tristan,” Thom said, lowering his voice. “Let’s get a drink.”
Tristan trailed along as Thom led them across the plaza towards a small restaurant. As he went, he stopped to pick up a few of the items on his list, always aware of the way people reacted to his uniform. There didn’t seem to be an anti-Weaver feeling in the shopping area, in fact everyone seemed open and friendly and many asked him for news from the inner system.
When they reached the restaurant, Thom was ushered to a quiet table in the back. “I’ve been here before,” he said when Tristan looked at him in surprise. “I’ve been doing a little listening.”
“Listening?”
“Yeah, wandering around, listening to what people are saying—about the pirates, about the Vermin—about the fact the Winged Victory is in dock.”
“Yeah?” Tristan waited while Thom ordered for them both.
“Yeah, and the thing is, the cruiser was already packing up so that dock would be ready if we got here.”
“If?” Tristan repeated.
“Yes, if. It’s been made very clear that we were expected to be coming in—if we came in at all—in bad shape. The attack on us was a pretty open secret in certain areas of the station. No one knows who ordered it, but several crews turned down the offer, even though it was a heavy bounty. The fact that they had to fly with a former Vermin vessel bothered a few—believe it or not, they don’t all think that captured Vermin ships should be used, and others were worried that even with the plans they were given, the Victory would shred them before they got a chance to hit her hard.” Thom glanced around. “So the question is, were they plumbing for weaknesses or trying to cripple us? Either one is a possibility, and both bother me more than I like to say.”
“How do you mean?”
“I’ve been out on a ship or two that were attacked on purpose.”
Tristan knew he was staring. “What are you implying?”
“I’m not implying, Tristan. It’s a fact. Sometimes pirates are hired to attack a new crew and vessel to give them a proper shakedown. Battle brings a crew together and tests the ship. It’s not well known, or officially approved of—but it happens. The thing that disturbs me is the requirement that one of the vessels would be former Vermin—and someone had the plans to the ship. They knew right where to hit us. Alden was taller than you, wasn’t he?”
“He was, quite a bit taller.”
“Would you say a head taller?”
Tristan thought for a minute. Even though he was fairly tall, Alden had towered over him. “At least, maybe a little more. We called him the giant when he first got to the Guild and we were all in training together as children.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Thom said worriedly.
“What are you talking about?”
“That round of combination-loaded grape-shot—if you had been a head taller it would have taken your head off instead of just grazing you before I knocked you down. The shot came from your side of the ship—it was meant to take out the Weaver.”
“No,” Tristan said, shaking his head. “You were there too, and the other officers.”
“Yes, we were, but that round was specifically aimed at what would have been Alden’s head. They had the height pre-programmed in their guns.”
“That’s why the Elemental Interface survived as well. The housing for it would have been set to be taller if Alden had been Warrior.” Tristan met Thom’s eyes. “Why would they be trying to get rid of the Warrior?”
“We’re back at the ‘why did they attack us’ part of the equation. If they wanted to cripple the ship and take it, then they probably were hoping to use their own Rogue to pilot the Victory.”
“And if it’s something else?”
“Then I don’t know. That’s what I was doing down on the secondary docks. I was trying to figure out just what was up. I met up with a few people I’ve chatted with in the past. One knows who I am, the others think I am one of them.”
“One of them? You mean a pirate?”
Thom shrugged. “The second ship I served on when I first shipped out was taken by pirates. Most of the crew was killed, but a few of us were left alive—mostly the officers that had a key role in the actual running of the ship. I was with the pirate ship for nearly a year before I managed to escape. I played along with them, trying to get as much information as I could. It co
mes in handy sometimes, even now.”
“You speak their language?” Tristan asked.
“Something like that. They don’t trust me, but they don’t distrust me either.” He shrugged again. “I was hoping to hear more. There was word of a ship out beyond the Rim that was taken by Vermin. A single Vermin ship, but from the last communication it was supposedly a big one.”
“Darius said a dragon had spotted a ship, too.”
“The Vermin are going to try again,” Thom said with certainty. “And we need to know who is going to fight with us.”
“You don’t mean the pirates?”
“Yeah, some of them will. They’re outlaws and would kill you or I without a thought. In fact they would kill half this station without a thought—but the Vermin ruin commerce. They leave nothing behind and how can you make money without people to sell your wares to?”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Tristan admitted.
“Some will fight to get their hands on the Vermin ships, too, then as soon as the battle is over they will turn the guns on the Navy.”
“It has to take a little time to get the sails under control, though.”
“It does, and when we go into battle, we try hard to kill the ships and worry about the Vermin onboard after. Of course the dragons go straight for the ships.”
“Of course.”
“Tommy Boy, that you?” a man asked, coming up to the table.
“Harkins!” Thom said, standing and taking the man’s hand. “This is Harkins, we’ve served together before. Harkins this is…”
“No need to introduce the Weaver. It’s all over the market. The bleeding Master Weaver of the whole Guild is walking our corridors! It’s quite a stir, let me tell you.”
“I’m not sure if that’s good or bad,” Tristan said, holding out his hand and shaking the one the man extended.
“‘Tis good, lad,’tis good. They’re loyal to Guild and Dragon here, though there’re a few lurking down deep might have a word or two against, most of us are chuffed up to see you here!” He dragged a chair over and sat down. “Chuffed up and proud, I tell you. We’ve seen a few dragons, of course, but never a Weaver of true Rank out here. I heard you were around, Tommy, and wanted to find you.”
The Sail Weaver Page 14