by Ryk Brown
“I’ll make sure,” Neli promised.
Captain Tuplo stepped out of the hatch and made his way down the gangway to the tarmac. The skies were clear, and it was mid morning at the Ladila spaceport. As usual, the port was bustling with activity. Unlike Palee’s spaceport, this one was the definition of efficiency, with flights arriving and departing every few minutes. Ladila had always been a popular world, with temperate climates throughout most of the planet, and very stable and predictable weather patterns. The Paradar system was further away from the Pentaurus cluster compared to others; hence its slow development. However, since the proliferation of jump technology, many had migrated to work in the numerous resorts that had sprouted up all over the planet, and Ladila had become one of the more popular vacation destinations in the Pentaurus sector.
Unfortunately, the owners of her spaceport were well aware of that fact, and charged more for landing at their facility than nearly anywhere else in the sector. Ship captains had little recourse, since a run to the Paradar system always meant a full load of passengers, each willing to pay a premium for the convenience of jumping to paradise in an instant. There were even plans to set up a dedicated jump shuttle service between some of the primary Pentaurus worlds and Ladila, providing hourly flights, thus allowing people within the Pentaurus cluster to simply jump over for dinner and a show, rather than booking an entire vacation.
Of course, such a contract would not go to the likes of Connor Tuplo and the Seiiki. Those services would require dedicated passenger jump shuttles, designed for that one task. But that was fine with Captain Tuplo, as the idea of constantly jumping back and forth between the same two destinations, day in and day out, did not appeal to him. He preferred being in control of his destiny. He liked being able to pick and chose his runs as he saw fit. His dream was to someday take his ship further out into the galaxy, and provide his services to worlds that had not yet been connected by jump-capable ships. Perhaps find a group of heavily populated worlds that were just far enough apart to make interstellar commerce logistically difficult, yet still within his single jump range. He had heard rumors that there were likely hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of human-inhabited worlds out there. Considering there were at least a dozen such worlds in the Pentaurus sector alone, and they had all stemmed from a single, colonization mission that had left Earth nearly a millennium ago, it was a believable scenario indeed.
The Ladila spaceport was a series of rings, all of which were connected to a central terminal. Each ring had its own cargo master, and each cargo master was linked to one another. It was not uncommon for ship captains to book more cargo than they could safely carry, just in case. They all operated with very slim profit margins, and no one ever wanted to lift off even a single kilogram under their gross takeoff weight. It was a game the cargo masters knew well, and they played it to their own advantage whenever possible. Captain Tuplo had gotten into the habit of understating his gross takeoff weight. It gave him the ability to seemingly take a risk, and help out a cargo master looking to get goods left behind off his schedule. It was slightly less than honest, but it hurt no one and gave the captain an extra margin of safety. Of course, it also meant that, on occasion, the Seiiki was leaving profit behind by taking off under her gross weight. More often than not, the additional bonuses for taking stale cargo off the cargo master’s hands made up for the loss.
Connor walked into the cargo processing center and headed straight for the cargo master’s office. Although he could have simply transmitted the amount of space and weight available to the cargo master’s office without ever leaving his ship, he liked getting out and walking around, even if it was only within the spaceport complex. It also helped to make personal connections, from time to time, with the people who could send paying cargo his way. It was normally a job for Marcus, as he had a way with such men. However, Ladila was a special case for Captain Tuplo, as it was one of the few worlds where everyone seemed to be courteous and friendly. It was also one of the few worlds where he actually felt comfortable leaving the safety of his little ship. If it weren’t for the exorbitant hourly port fees, he would try to make his layovers on Ladila. Unfortunately, a single overnight stay would take him a week’s worth of runs to make up.
“Marl Joson,” Captain Tuplo said as he entered the cargo master’s office. “Since when did you start working the day shift?”
“Since old man Aberlon got transferred to terminal four,” Marl replied, offering his hand in greeting. “How are you doing, Connor?”
“Keeping ahead of the curve…barely.”
“Just like the rest of us. What can I do for you?”
“I was hoping you had some stale cargo that needed to go to Rama,” Connor said.
“How much are we talking about?” Marl wondered.
Captain Tuplo pulled his data pad out of his pocket and set it on the counter. He turned it on, called up the current load plan on the Seiiki, then turned the data pad around and slid it across the counter to the cargo master.
“Not much, I see,” Marl commented as he studied the data pad. He looked at his display screen. “I can give you a few pods full of poray beans. It won’t get you to max weight, but it’s better than nothing.”
“Don’t you have anything heavier?” Captain Tuplo asked.
“I’ve got some thruster cores shipping out for overhaul. But you’ll have to shift things around a bit to make them fit. Still won’t get you to max weight, though.”
“Give me the cores and the poray beans, then,” Connor suggested.
The cargo agent entered the data into his system. “That will put you over gross, Connor.”
“I just won’t take on any additional propellant then,” Captain Tuplo said. “The prices are too damned high here anyway.”
“As you wish,” Marl replied. “Just give me a minute.”
Captain Tuplo turned and looked up at the flight status displays, noticing that the view screen showing the flights scheduled from both the Takar and Darvano systems were not displaying any information. “Hey, what’s up with the flights?”
“I don’t know,” Marl replied. “They’ve been like that for nearly an hour.”
“The last jump comm-drone didn’t show up,” one of the other workers in the cargo office commented. “They haven’t updated since nine.”
“That’s odd,” Captain Tuplo said. “Aren’t those drones usually on time?”
“It happens every once in a while,” Marl assured him. “I’m sure it’s just a malfunctioning drone. The next one will get here in a few minutes, and the board will update.” Marl handed the data pad back to Captain Tuplo. “You’re all set. I even transmitted the added cargo specs to your ship for you.”
“I can hear Marcus swearing already,” Captain Tuplo chuckled. “Thanks.”
* * *
“If they’ve taken Corinair, then they must have taken Takara as well,” Jessica surmised.
“Simultaneously, I would expect,” General Telles said. He stood, leaning against the counter in the hangar’s outer office. They had been debriefing Loki for several minutes, trying to garner every bit of information possible from him while it was all still fresh in his memory. “And you’re sure the Avendahl was destroyed? She didn’t just jump away at the last second?”
“No, sir. I double checked,” Loki insisted. “She was trying to jump, but she was hit by at least a dozen jump missiles as she was attempting to escape. She never flashed… She just came apart.”
“Do you remember how many of her jump fighters made it to the Glendanon?” Jessica pressed.
“I heard Jaker Four Five say twenty or thirty, but I don’t know how many of them actually made it back to the Glendanon before she jumped out. Last I heard, two Jakers were trying to defend the Glendanon against some gunships, to buy time for the rest of the fighters to get aboard before she jumped away.”
“We need to find the Glendanon,” Jessica commented.
“All in due time.”
; “Why?” Deliza wondered.
“If she’s got twenty to thirty jump fighters on board, she’s a formidable weapon,” Jessica explained, “and a mobile one.”
“We need to know his intentions,” General Telles added.
“I know Captain Gullen well,” Deliza told them. “He has family on Corinair. I am friends with his daughter, Sori.”
“Do you have any idea where he may have been headed?”
“No, but I am sure his intentions were honorable. He is a good man,” Deliza insisted.
“You’re planning on fighting them, aren’t you?” Loki realized.
“You sound surprised,” General Telles said.
“Well, yeah,” Loki replied. “They’ve got battleships, General. Battleships with jump drives, no less. And you’ve got what, a few hundred men, and maybe an old jump freighter with a couple dozen jump fighters stranded on her decks?”
“Not a few hundred men,” General Telles corrected. “A few hundred Ghatazhak. There is a difference.”
“Of course, but…”
“We will recon the Pentaurus cluster, then we will send word to Sol,” General Telles explained. “The Alliance will send ships, and we will drive the Jung from this sector, just as we did from the Sol sector. Meanwhile, we should be prepared to harass the Jung as much as possible, prevent them from getting a firm foothold in the Pentaurus cluster. For if they do, they will undoubtedly spread throughout the entire sector, and beyond.”
* * *
“You asked for more ships, we approved the construction of more ships,” President Scott said irately. “You asked for better jump drives, so we developed better jump drives. You asked for better weapons, so we developed better weapons. Now you ask for more super KKVs, even though you have how many? Fifty?”
“Fifty-seven,” Admiral Galiardi replied.
“On how many platforms?”
“Twelve.”
“It seems to me, Admiral, that you already have the ability to destroy the Jung Empire’s entire industrial capacity with a single command,” the president continued. “I fail to see how adding more super KKVs strengthens our position.”
“The Jung still have more than a hundred ships,” Admiral Galiardi explained, “not including the six battle platforms currently protecting the Jung homeworld. And that number only represents the ships we have confirmed within the Jung sector. We have yet to determine the extent of their expansion efforts. There could very well be hundreds more out there. Perhaps even thousands.”
“Don’t you think you’re overestimating the size of their forces just a bit, Admiral?” President Scott suggested.
“Better to overestimate an enemy’s capabilities, than to underestimate them. The consequences are far less severe.”
“And exactly how many more super KKVs would you propose we build?”
“I think you misunderstand me, Mister President,” the admiral corrected. “I am not proposing a finite number of these weapons. I am proposing that we continue to build them, as quickly as possible.”
The president’s eyebrow rose. “Until when? To what end?”
“Until the Jung realize they cannot beat us.”
“They cannot beat us now, Admiral,” the president argued. “Not without suffering irreparable damages.”
“Short of complete annihilation, there is no such thing.”
President Scott took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Of course, the Jung will do the same. For every super KKV we build, they will build another ship. For every method we come up with to destroy their assets, they will eventually come up with a way to counter. It will not end. We will either be buried under all our weapons, or we shall be destroyed by them.” President Scott shook his head. “I’m afraid either end is unacceptable. I cannot endorse such a plan, Admiral.”
“If the leaders of the worlds we are sworn to protect will not give us the tools we need to do so…”
“Six years ago, you stood before me with a plan,” the president interrupted. “A plan to protect the entire sector from Jung attack. A plan you swore would all but guarantee that the Jung would not attack any Alliance member worlds. We approved that plan, Admiral. I approved that plan, not so much because I believed in you, but because I did not want my son’s sacrifice to be in vain.”
“And because I had the support of the people of Earth,” Admiral Galiardi corrected, “and you did not wish to empower me further by opposing me.”
“I recommissioned you, Admiral,” President Scott reminded him as he rose from his chair. “Let us not forget that.” The president nodded at his aide, who signaled the guard at the door to open it, an open suggestion to the admiral that the meeting had ended.
“You are not the sole deciding vote in this Alliance, Mister President,” the admiral said smugly as he too rose from his seat. “Let us not forget that.”
“We have spent the last seven years protecting a fragile cease-fire. I shall not bet against that which my son gave his life to create.” The president nodded to the general. “Good day, Admiral.” President Scott turned his back to the admiral and walked back across his office toward his desk, paying no attention as the admiral exited the room.
“You know, building super KKVs is not the same thing as deploying them,” Miri reminded her father as she entered the room.
President Scott shot her a stern look, then turned to watch the admiral exit, the doors closing behind him.
“Relax, father, I activated the sound wall on my way in.”
“It may not be the same thing, but it is the next step. As long as the weapons do not exist, they cannot be deployed.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you,” Miri insisted. “However, you could have been more diplomatic about it.”
“The admiral needs to know that he cannot waltz into my office and bully me into granting him every weapon his black heart desires.”
“I don’t like the man any more than you do, father, but his interests are the same as yours.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” the president said as he took his seat behind his desk.
“You both want peace,” Miranda reminded him.
“Except he wants it at the barrel of a gun, rather than by mutual cooperation and understanding. Peace cannot be forced upon a people. They must want it.”
“Most would argue that the Jung have no use for peace,” Miri replied, “and that their so-called negotiations are nothing more than a stalling tactic to allow them to develop their own jump drive. After seven years of such negotiations, I’m finding it hard to reject that notion.”
President Scott sighed. “I know how you feel,” he admitted, “but we cannot give up hope.”
“I know,” she said, placing her hand on his shoulder. “I know. I miss him too.”
* * *
Doran Montrose burst through the back door to his home, the others hot on his heels.
Terris suddenly appeared in the doorway from the living room. “What…” She spotted her husband and ran to him. “What is it, Doran? What’s happening?”
“Everyone, into the living room, away from the doors and windows,” Doran ordered.
“What is going on out there?” his wife demanded to know. “I heard reports of an invasion on the…”
“Not now, Terris,” Doran insisted as he herded everyone into the living room. “We need clothing for everyone.”
“What? Why?”
“Where are Nora and Dunner?”
“They are here…”
“Father!”
Doran embraced his daughter as she entered from the other room, followed by her younger brother. “Thank God you’re both safe. Nora, see if you can find a change of clothing for Lael and Doctor Sato. Dunner, help Yanni and Doctor Megel find something to wear from my closet.”
“What is going on?” Nora asked.
“Please, just do as I ask.”
“Where did you get those weapons?” Doran’s wife demanded.
“The weapons, of
course.” Doran looked at the others. “All your weapons are powered down, are they not?”
Yanni checked his energy rifle. “Yes.”
“Give them all to me. I have a place to hide them, one that will shield them from detection.”
The others placed their weapons on the couch as instructed.
“What are we going to do?” Yanni asked.
“You two are husband and wife,” Doran said, pointing at Yanni and Lael. “Lael, you are a friend of my daughter’s, visiting town with your husband and new child. Doctors, you two are my relatives from Federborough province. You are in town for the spring festival tomorrow. Understood?”
“Doran, please,” his wife begged.
“It is important that everyone has the same story!” Doran insisted.
“Doran, you’re scaring me.”
Doran grabbed his wife by the shoulders. “It’s the Jung, Terris. They have come.”
Terris looked at her husband’s eyes. She had not seen such fear in them for many years. “But, the Avendahl…”
“The Avendahl has been destroyed,” Doran told her. “Darvano now belongs to the Jung.”
Terris Montrose tried to fight back her tears as she clutched her husband. “What are we to do, Doran?”
“I don’t know, yet,” he told her as he held her tight. “But I will think of something. I promise.”
* * *
“Kind of tight in here, isn’t it,” Captain Tuplo commented as he entered the Seiiki’s cargo bay.
“That’s what happens when you overbook your cargo,” Marcus grumbled.
“A full ship is a happy ship,” the captain replied as he ascended the port ladder.
Dalen came out onto the port landing, in front of the captain.
“I know,” the captain said, holding up one hand as he stepped off the ladder onto the landing. “But we’re full up. There’s no room to shift cargo around.”
“So what do we do if there’s a problem and I need to get to the crawl spaces while underway?”