by Randal Sloan
Sasha shook her head. "You'd be surprised at some of the merchant ships out here. Some of the managing companies try to get by on the cheap and they hire complete incompetents to handle the ship. Some of them would be too stupid to know the difference. In deference to the pirates, it saves them a lot of work having to chase down the ships."
"AI, send the preprogrammed reply Alpha 2," Sasha said.
"This is the merchant vessel Kominado. We're not buying that load of hogwash. If you were a patrol vessel, you'd have the proper codes. Be aware, we have the capability to defend ourselves. If you come any closer, we'll stick a missile or two in places you don't like."
Sasha knew the language was a little crude, but it fit with most of what she'd heard all those times she'd been on coms on her father's ship. It appeared it worked as a follow-up message appeared.
"We don't believe you. You have no missile ports visible. This is your last warning or we'll fire on you."
"They're within what would be considered normal missile range for an armed merchant," Gabo announced.
"Blow the cover on missile tube 1," Sasha commanded. "Fire when ready."
The missile tubes on the Katarina were all covered with a blank plate to hide them from any prying eyes. A small explosive charge was used to remove the cover and allow the missile to be fired.
"Preparing to singe eyebrows," Sara said. "Missile away. Twenty seconds to detonation point."
As planned, the missile exploded just before it reached the pirate. The missile must have exploded a little closer to the pirate than Sara meant for it to, because she said, "Oops. I may have completely burned off those eyebrows."
Everyone laughed. It was a good tension-breaker for the small ship.
"Blow the cover on missile tube 2," Sasha told her, "but don't fire yet."
"He's turning away," Gabo said moments later. "I don't think he liked the looks of us after all."
Sasha smiled. "Continue on our current course until we get outside his sensor range. Make sure you keep that a conservative value. When we're clear, engage the stealth systems and follow him."
Thus ensued the next phase of their cat and mouse game. For the next twelve hours their little ship followed just outside the pirate's scan range, not that he could have likely picked up their stealthed ship anyway. That's when things went off book.
"We're approaching an area of space they call the Badlands," Gabo announced. "I don't know what he plans to do. There's no way he can navigate in there."
But the pirate continued along his way, slowing just a little as he got closer but not stopping. He also began to make what to their ship appeared to be random course changes.
"So that's why we can't find their base," Sasha mumbled. "Someone's discovered a path through and they're using it to hide the base. No one would ever think to look in there."
"Do we continue to follow?" Galen asked, more than just a little nervous. He was the one who would have to figure out how to navigate their way through, and he wasn't sure he could do it, despite his brags in the past. The Badlands was an area like no other.
"No, too many things could go wrong. We've done as much as we can for the moment. Let's send a message to the Princess and wait to see what she says. Find us a good spot outside to anchor our ship. Make sure we're far enough away from his entrance point to be safe from detection."
Her thoughts were really churning away by now. Something about this whole situation didn't feel right. This whole area of space and its total variance from the patterns made absolutely no sense to Sasha. Good thing it was the Princess that would have to make the decisions this time. Without a doubt, the Princess would know what to do.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Not Quite the Right Beginning
Lieutenant Jarra quickly settled into her quarters. Even on a super-dreadnought a lieutenant's quarters were quite small, but at least she had her own. The enlisted would have to share a bunk room with several others. It didn't take long to unpack her kit, although she did take care to secure some certain items in the small personal safe she was allotted as a ship's officer. Normally, only the ship's Captain or XO could override such a safe, but Jarra used her high-end AI to block even those codes from her unit. Only Imperial command codes even above an Admiral's grade would work to open her safe.
Into it went her Crown credential chip, which hopefully wouldn't be needed, her special com unit that would allow her to communicate with her team if it became necessary, and her full set of medals which she hadn't been able to resist bringing with her. None of those could be safely seen by anyone without blowing her cover.
Carefully slipping out of her dress uniform, Jarra placed the uniform into the garment fresher, and then stepped into the personal fresher in the unit, letting it clean the grime of the last few days' travel off her. Exiting the fresher, she removed the 'freshed uniform, folding it and storing it away. All done, Jarra had several hours to kill, so she couldn't resist dressing in workout clothes. Sasha in her statement to the Master Sergeant would have received points up; barely aboard ship, Jarra was already headed down to Marine country. In Jarra's favor, the last few days had been spent traveling and the week leading up to that had been so busy, she hadn't had time to work out.
Traditionally, Navy officers had their own gym area and would work out there, but it was also acceptable for officers to visit the Marine workout area; if they could cut it, that was. Jarra wasn't worried about that and she wanted to check on her "boys" as she called them, even though both were actually older than she was. Nevertheless, they were a part of her team and she considered them her responsibility.
Nothing bad had happened to them since they had her implant codes and they could reach her instantly if necessary, but still she worried. If it weren't for her uncle's insistence that she be accompanied by Imperial Marines at all times, she wouldn't have brought them.
Jarra wasn't surprised to find the two of them in the workout area sparring, since they, like her, had a few hours to kill. She took a moment to watch them with a critical eye, but she was quite pleased that Maze was coming on nicely. After her little lesson, his attitude had completely changed; it was like he was a new man. The same could be said for Greg, who was so different from the man she'd faced in their Rim Patrol duel that she almost didn't recognize him.
In that duel, Greg had taken every shortcut he could and had tried to cheat his way through it. Only Jarra's ability and her Imperial override codes had gotten her through the duel. Now, if anything, Greg took everything too seriously; working as hard as she'd ever seen a Marine do. Jarra thought that the obvious friendship that had developed between him and Maze would help him a lot.
It was as if the two felt her thoughts turned toward them as both stopped their sparring to look at her. Both almost forgot themselves, coming very close to both a bow and a "Your Highness", but the rather intense training the Sarge had put them through to prepare them for their undercover assignment came through. They also knew the consequences of such a failure. Still, it wasn't easy, both having come to deeply respect their Princess.
"Ma'am," Maze spoke up. As the one with the most seniority, he would normally be the spokesman for the two.
"I just wanted to see how the two of you were getting along, since we traveled together for so long," Jarra told him, her own undercover prep coming to light. "I was hoping I would get a chance to spar with the two of you, since we did it several times while aboard that cruiser."
"We would be glad to do so," Maze answered quickly, although Jarra saw the momentary glint of fear in his eyes. "Only if you promise to take it easy on us," he went on as he remembered where he was. He desperately hoped he never had to receive another lesson from her like the last one, but he knew she was using this as an opportunity to talk with them, no lesson intended.
Wandering over to the wall where the equipment was stored, Jarra selected a couple of Bo staffs which she tossed to the guys. "You know I prefer the Bo," she told them as she selected a Bo staff
a little apart from the others. Something about that one drew her as she examined it to see if it was in good condition.
"Who wants to go first," Jarra asked as she stepped onto the mat. When neither was eager to volunteer, she laughed. Speaking softly so that only the two of them could hear her, she went on, "Fine, you can both go together. I want to see if the two of you have learned enough to challenge me. It's been getting quite boring lately. No holding back, either."
"Like either of us would be stupid enough to hold back with you," Maze replied just as softly as she. Then he glanced at Greg and Jarra saw the look that passed between them.
Good, they've thought it through beforehand and have been working on a strategy together, was Jarra's quick thought. We'll see how long they stick to it.
Using that moment of distraction on the part of the two men, Jarra rushed forward to attack. The first step in overcoming a double team was to break up their timing, she knew. Unsurprisingly, both men managed to get their blocks up, although Jarra quickly had them both hard pressed. She was pleased, however, to see that they held their own.
The bout continued for a few moments, the activity beginning to draw a crowd. Jarra had been quite enjoying herself, having not had the chance to push herself this hard in awhile. All of that ended when a burly sergeant came into the room.
"That's my staff," he bellowed. "Give it to me now and get your scrawny butt back up to fly-boy country where you belong."
Jarra knew better. She was supposed to be keeping a low profile. But she was flying high on adrenaline and she let her temper get the better of her.
"You want your little staff," she spat back at him. "Come and get it."
Grabbing Greg's staff which he'd let drop at the interruption, she threw it to the man. Sergeant Madison Gershaw, as Jarra would later come to know him, as well as his handle "Mad Dog," was not one to think a situation over. He'd become accustomed to getting his way because of his size and what he thought was ability. He'd gotten away with it for so long that he'd started to believe it himself.
If the sergeant had had any ability to think the situation through, he would have noticed the small things that would have warned him. Jarra was facing two men opposing her as a team, yet she was easily besting the two of them. Her response to him had not shown an ounce of fear and he should have wondered why. The very act of challenging her without offering her a chance to don protective gear could have gotten him put on report, potentially even getting him stockade time. The line between officer and enlisted was often grayed when working out, but officers were granted privileges when it came down to it.
None of that went through his head as he charged the girl who had dared to defy him. A gasp went up from the watchers as he took a wild swing at her head. It had to look bad to them, the big burly sergeant that many actually feared attacking the newcomer, who really did look to them like a young girl. They shouldn't have worried.
After making sure her "boys" were out of the way, Jarra switched all of her attention to the sergeant. Still running on the shot of adrenalin her anger had kindled, she didn't pull her punches this time. Easily dodging his wild slash, Jarra stepped to the side, and in a lightning-fast move, struck the man in the back as he went past her. The blow was so hard it knocked the man to his knees. Jarra's training was so ingrained that she had the sense not to go for the head blow as he had done, or it quite likely would have killed him.
Any other man would have been out for the count, but not Sergeant Gershaw. He himself was so stoked he somehow shrugged it off, angrily getting back to his feet. That had to have been a lucky hit, he was certain. This time, he at least had the sense to follow his basic training, not rushing in like before. Still, he was going to teach her a lessen.
Jarra by this time had gotten herself back under control. She too had remembered her training, no longer going for the debilitating blow. Instead she knew she'd let her anger get the better of her. Still, there was nothing to do but to finish it now. She stepped into position as the sergeant came back for more.
No longer swinging out of control, still Gershaw expected to finish her quickly. He took another hard swing, only to find the blow blocked off to the side, leaving him open for a return strike to the chest. That staggered him but he shrugged it off too. Another lucky hit. I'll get her with the next one.
Jarra had already danced clear, hoping that one would get his attention. But it was not to be so. The man refused to recognize his situation, coming back again and again. Each time, Jarra blocked his attacks, working him until she could get her own strike in. The man had to be bruised all over. But he wouldn't quit.
Jarra knew there were two basic types of people. Most when obviously bested would recognize their betters and submit to their mercy. They would use it as a chance to learn from the mistakes that had gotten them there. Unfortunately, some men, like Governor Resault who she'd faced down in battle, would never admit they could lose, going so far as to lose their life in their misguided belief. Such a person was beyond redemption. Sergeant Gershaw was that way too, she realized. She made one last attempt to get the sergeant to give up.
"Sergeant, you cannot win. You have to see I could do this all day. You haven't gotten a single strike in. Yield and you can at least walk out of here."
Her plea gave the sergeant pause for a moment, but he shook his head. What is she going on about? I'll get her any moment now. He stepped back in, taking another swing at her head.
Knowing she had no recourse but to put him down, Jarra stepped it up another notch. Her staff moving faster than he could see, she knocked the sergeant's staff out of his hands and struck several blows, staggering even the large man facing her. Finally, she delivered a perfectly placed blow on the side of his head, sending him falling to the mat. This time, he didn't get up.
#
Only then did Jarra look up to see just how big a crowd they had drawn. Among them was Lieutenant Commander Cauldwell and beside him the man she recognized as Master Sergeant Chad Cartwright, who was charged with the squad of Imperial Marines assigned to Relentless.
Himself a little dazed, the Master Sergeant nevertheless took charge of his marines. "Get that man out of here," he said gruffly, pointing to two of his marines standing in the audience. "Take him to medical and then after that to the stockade. Maybe a week there will get his attention."
Turning to Jarra, he went on, "I apologize for that, ma'am. I saw the whole thing and if you wish to bring him up on charges, I'll support you."
"No, Sarge," Jarra said contritely, "I shouldn't have lost my temper. I should have just given him the stupid staff. I'll try not to cause any more trouble around here."
"With all due respect, ma'am," the Sarge told her, "that one gets under all our skins. It is my own fault for not reeling him in before now. But after that little demonstration, you've earned the right to come here any time you want. There's not a man here, myself included, who could match that level of skill, and we all know it."
He looked her in the eyes. "It will greatly offend us if you don't return."
Jarra returned his look and nodded. "I've got it, Sarge." She shook her head, giving him a crooked smile. "We young lieutenants do have much to learn from our Master Sergeants. I thank you for my latest lesson."
Turning to the Lieutenant Commander, Jarra went on, "Commander, I suppose I've stirred up enough trouble for you on my first day."
Jason shook his head. He knew full well Jarra's identity and even had a pretty good idea of her background. Still he had been shocked to see her stand up to that huge bully and walk out of there untouched.
"I don't see anyone raising complaints," he told her with a smile. "Unfortunately, I suppose I'll have to write up a report to give to the XO. It would be best if we adjourn to my small office to get your input on that same report."
Jason had tried to keep the fact he knew Jarra and had feelings for her from showing, but he caught the slight glint in the Master Sergeant's eye. Best stage a quick retreat! he
knew, because this one was a losing cause. He knew he couldn't hide his feelings for Jarra, not from someone as astute as the Sarge.
"Sarge, we'll finish up that 3D chess game tomorrow. I believe I'll still have you in a handful of moves, although you are quite the surprising opponent."
"Yeah, we'll do that. Might have a few things to discuss too, Commander," the Sarge told him with a twinkle in his eye.
Although the Sarge left unsaid the details, Jason knew exactly what he was telling him. Best get your story straight, Jason thought to himself. What in the heck do I tell the Sarge that he'll believe without telling him all the truth? Obviously the Princess doesn't want her real identity known. Heck, I don't even know why she's here.
Jason had only been on this assignment a couple of weeks, but he already knew something fishy was going on with this ship. That was one of the reasons he had cultivated a relationship with the Master Sergeant, although that wasn't that far out of line. Jason often frequented Marine country in his assignments. Although he would never reach the level of his Princess, Jason had developed his skills to the point he felt he had earned the right to be there. In fact, the first time he had visited the workout area, he had faced down a couple of challengers successfully, just not in as dramatic a fashion as the Princess.
As they turned to leave, Jarra gave her two Marines a last glance making sure they were okay. As Master Sergeants do, Cartwright didn't miss the glance she gave them. He might not know who this young officer really was, but she certainly wasn't a mere lieutenant. He was pretty sure that his new friend the Lieutenant Commander knew, but he also knew he probably wouldn't get it out of him. Of course, he never suspected the real truth.
#
Jason led the way to his small office, which really was just a small room attached to his quarters. Lieutenant Commanders were given a level of responsibility such that they needed a private office, but not a large enough responsibility that they needed a big space. Although space on a super-dreadnought was not at the premium it was on most ships, it still was tight enough that his space was not so large.