Pandora’s Crew

by Gorg Huff

∞ ∞ ∞

  Rosita sat at the desk in her room, and used her interface to sink into the system net with the help of Sally. Virtual screens appeared before her, showing news articles, documents of the Ferguson system government, and even fleet records. She was searching for data on the Drake incursion.

  What she found surprised her. The reports didn’t jibe with her discussions with Tanya Cordoba-Davis, Chuck Givens, or any of the other survivors. The official report bore only the vaguest relationship to the reality.

  Admiral Frankin, according to the official report, was the greatest strategist since Old Earth’s wet navy Admiral Nimitz.

  Captain Rodriguez was a paragon of naval virtues, brave and true, but faced with an impossible situation.

  Tanya Cordoba-Davis was a competent but inexperienced officer who managed to save her crew more through luck than skill. And having done her duty, she resigned.

  In leaked news reports, it became clear that Tanya was “allowed” to resign as an alternative to facing a courts martial for her failure to properly support the larger fleet units. The article in the Ferguson Cordoba blog suggested, without ever quite saying, that if Tanya were a better officer the Cordoba losses would have been much less.

  All this seemed very strange to Rosita. She’d met Tanya Cordoba-Davis, who didn’t seem to be the person portrayed in the reports.

  It took Rosita and Sally almost an hour to find the pieces and put together what had happened. Frankin and Rodriguez were both of old line Spaceforce families. And, grand stockholder or not, Cordoba-Davis wasn’t. The Spaceforce covered its own ass . . . and didn’t consider Tanya one of its own.

  That wasn’t enough.

  Tanya Cordoba-Davis was a grand stockholder and the Cordoba-Davises, while not directly connected to the Seventeen Families, were headed by Angela Cordoba-Davis, who was one of the Two Hundred. So why didn’t the commander’s family come to her rescue?

  Sally highlighted an article. Rosita read. Conrad Jackson-Cordoba, Tanya’s fourth cousin by marriage, arrived on the scene in the company of the relieving fleet. Then Sally used station records to find several contacts between Conrad and Tanya. Not what they talked about, but Rosita could guess. Apparently, Conrad told Tanya to sit down and shut up.

  But why?

  Further searching revealed that Angela Cordoba-Davis was Tanya’s great aunt. She did not approve of Tanya’s career choice, and had interests in the Jackson-Cordoba Trading Company.

  Maybe . . . but it still didn’t seem enough to justify Tanya’s resignation. For some reason, Tanya was fed to the Fleet, chewed up, and spit out.

  Rosita really wanted to know what that reason was.

  The Stockholder’s Club, Ferguson Station 3

  Standard Date: 06 22 631

  Tanya Cordoba-Davis played no games with the auto tender. Partly that was because there wasn’t an auto tender. She wasn’t in a spacer’s bar. The club was a high class establishment with live waiters. Fine wood paneling shipped in from five systems away covered the walls. The floor was covered in Parthian silk rugs, the chairs were deeply padded, coated in Pang fur and the tables were carved Sing Ivory. The waiter brought her New Kentucky whisky in a crystal decanter and the snifter was a cut Torna egg.

  Not that it was going to be any easier for Tanya to get drunk than it was for Danny Gold. She had similar genetic mods. It was the stock in trade of the Cybrants, after all, and her family could afford the best. But Tanya was hard-working and dedicated. So she shot the whisky back, poured herself another and shot it back with mechanical precision and no appreciation at all of the top quality hooch she was downing. With enough effort, she would get drunk, whatever impediments her genetics put in her path. She poured herself another whisky and thought about how she ended up here. . . .

  Maybe her family was right and she wasn’t cut out for the military. Being good at strategy games wasn’t all there was to it. The military was just as political as the corporate jungle. Which she knew shouldn’t have been a surprise, but it was. Her dad was military, but political military. He, at least, realized that if she insisted on going out in warships she needed to know how to operate in them. More out of concern for her physical safety than any interest in her military career, he found Jimmy Dugan for her.

  Tanya took another drink.

  Jimmy taught her. Starting with calling her a spoiled idiot on her first day at the academy. Tanya hadn’t wanted to take any favors from her family. But Jimmy pointed out that it wasn’t an undeserved promotion that he provided, but training in how to deserve the promotions she was going to get anyway because of her stockholder rank. She worked so hard to earn those promotions. To be worthy of the privilege she was born to.

  Then, when she actually needed support, something for the good of the service, her family sold her out. To cover someone’s ass. The Jackson-Cordobas had something on someone, or maybe just something Great Aunt Angela wanted. Conrad wasn’t specific. He didn’t have to be. He had the sealed message from her great aunt, saying that for reasons of family honor they couldn’t support her.

  Conrad explained that the Jackson-Cordobas didn’t want an investigation of the situation on Parthia, and the Spaceforce didn’t want its errors exposed. “If you fight it,” Conrad Jackson-Cordoba informed her, “you will be courtmartialed for cowardice in the face of the enemy. Records will be produced to prove you ran.”

  Tanya agreed to resign . . . and now she really did feel like a coward.

  Pandora, docked at Ferguson Station 3

  Standard Date: 06 23 631

  Danny showed Debby into the cabin, then nibbled on her neck. Debby was fifty, old enough to know how and young enough not to creak when she used that knowledge. Danny didn’t creak either, even if he was close to twice her age. They’d had a good time at the bar and, unlike the college student, Debby wasn’t into sharing. So they came back to the Pan, rather than to the apartment she shared with a friend.

  “I was hoping to show you some of the Parthian woods we picked up,” Danny said, “but they’re still in the holds. Instead, look here. These sheets are from Bonks. Feel how slippery they are.” Danny grinned, and Debby grinned back.

  Some time later, they talked about local rutters. Debby sometimes played Rutter Tag with local captains. She had a good database. Danny didn’t want to play Rutter Tag, because he very much didn’t want to give up the jumps he discovered off Parthia, so he bought her rutters.

  Debby’s rutters were helpful, but wouldn’t get the Pan where she needed to go. The nearest jump point listed in Debby’s rutter was still over a light year away from the jump chain he had discovered out of Parthia System.

  Pandora’s Galley, Ferguson System

  Standard Date: 06 24 631

  “How was your evening?” Rosita asked, then sipped her juice.

  “Entertaining,” Danny smiled and fetched a cup of hot coffee, “but of limited value. I’ve uploaded the rutters I got from Debby to Pan. How was yours?”

  “I think we should try to recruit Tanya Cordoba-Davis.”

  Danny stopped with the coffee halfway to his mouth. “What in space for? That naval robot has less originality than the suit bot.”

  “She’s suffered a few shocks that may have loosened her up,” Rosita said, and went on to explain her investigations.

  “I’m not convinced.” Danny sat across from her and sipped his coffee. “I don’t think you realize how hard it is to put aside early childhood training. Besides, we’re getting pretty Cordoba heavy in this crew.”

  “Not that heavy. Cybrant is in Drake space. So is Bonks.”

  Danny started to argue, but then shrugged. The truth was that Jenny and John had not been raised with any particular loyalty to the Drakes. The Schmitz family, however, were members of the Cordoba stockholder ranks, albeit minor members, of what amounted to the Cordoba aristocracy if by another name. Hirum had no loyalty to the Cordobas.

  But it could be expected that Tanya Cordoba-Davis would still feel loyalty to t
he Cordobas, even if she was pissed at them at the moment. Danny knew how difficult it was for him to finally give over loyalty to the Cybrants. “Goldgok,” Danny sent through the net to the Parthian’s cabin, “would you mind coming to the galley?”

  “I called Goldgok,” Danny told Rosita. “Let’s hear its view.”

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  Goldgok came in and Danny listened again as Rosita filled it in on the recent history of Tanya Cordoba-Davis. Once the Parthian was brought up to speed, it suggested a compromise. “Hire her, but don’t tell her about the new weapons. The point Hirum made about me applies to this member of Clan Cordoba.”

  “Assuming she’ll take the job,” Danny added. “Considering her wealth, she could buy her own ship. All right, Rosita, go ahead and approach her. But say nothing about the new weapons.”

  “We need some reason why we’re trying to hire her.”

  “You said that she was dumped on by the Jackson-Cordobas,” Danny offered. “Tell her we’re looking for side routes.”

  “You mean a back door to the Parthia system?”

  “Don’t tell her that, but let her work it out.” Danny had a thought and let a grin spread over his face. “Pan, come up with a game for the kids. In fact, come up with a couple of them, Sea Battles, or Angry Asteroids. Something, anything, except wingship combat sims. Have it use a weapon that is comparable to the new weapons. Then we’ll see if Jenny can get her to play the game. That way we might get some use out of the grand stockholder, without giving away anything vital.”

  Stockholder’s Club, Ferguson Station Three

  Standard Date: 06 26 631

  Master Chief Gunnery Sergeant Dugan showed his stock certificate at the entrance to the Stockholder’s Club. The concierge sniffed and Jimmy grinned in sympathy.

  “Yes, the club is technically open to any stockholder,” the concierge explained gently, “but . . .”

  Jimmy waved away the protest. “I’m just here to see to Grand Stockholder Cordoba-Davis. This isn’t my sort of place.”

  “Well enough, then. Alex, take the gunnery sergeant to the Safari Room.”

  Jimmy followed the kid to the elevators and they went down two levels to a bubble on the skin of the station where they could look out at space through giant glass-plex windows. The commander was sitting at a table with a mostly empty decanter of New Kentucky whisky on the table beside her, and not noticeably inebriated.

  “Skipper, you’re an expensive drunk, that’s for sure.”

  “Gee, thanks, Jimmy. Pull up a chair and I’ll have the steward bring another egg.” She held up the snifter. An accident of the structure of the Torna egg was that it refracted light in the visible spectrum. It was opaque to the high ultraviolet that the Torna saw in, but for humans the eggs were like holding a rainbow in your hands.

  Jimmy just shook his head. “Skipper, you interested in a job?”

  “What kind of job, Jimmy? Should I become an accounts manager at a station food market?”

  “How about executive officer on a tramp freighter?”

  “I think the accounts manager might be the better choice.”

  “Maybe, Skipper, but I don’t think the foodmart is hiring. The Pandora is.”

  She looked at Jimmy. “This a real offer?”

  “They seem to think so. But if you want a tramp, you could buy your own.”

  “No, I couldn’t, Jimmy. I don’t have the rutters. I have the military rutters, but not the civilian rutters to make a successful smuggler.”

  “You could buy those too.”

  “Maybe, but could I trust them? On the other hand, that’s Danny Gold’s ship. And if that ass is willing to hire a former fleet officer, something’s going on, and I’m a bit curious about what.”

  Jimmy Dugan smiled as he followed his skipper out of the club.

  Pandora’s Galley, Ferguson System

  Standard Date: 06 27 631

  Tanya gave the bug a half bow that was standard in Cordoba space when handshakes or salutes were not appropriate. She was almost sure that this was Checkgok, but not quite. It looked like Checkgok, but Checkgok was the only Parthian she had ever seen in person. “Hello, Checkgok.”

  “It’s Goldgok now, Commander.”

  Tanya lifted an eyebrow and the Parthian explained. “The Zheck clan has confirmed my adoption by Clan Danny Gold. I am the chief trader for the Gold Clan. It is a new clan, based on Parthia, and the first established with human breeders.”

  Tanya felt her lips twitch. “Isn’t that just a legal fiction?”

  “No!” There was a short pause, then Goldgok continued. “I can see that it might seem that way to a human, but no. Danny Gold gained a great deal of respect by fulfilling the contract made with my previous clan. We do not draw the lines between family and business the same way that humans seem to. When he accepted my kothkoke, and then arranged for me to be able to fulfill my obligation to Clan Zheck, it established Captain Gold as an honorable breeder and, given the circumstances, he became the Clan leader of a new clan.”

  Tanya held up a hand. “I was just asking. I meant no offense.”

  “Of course.” Goldgok waved one of its massive mid arms at a chair while it moved to its nest. “However, the assumption that it is a legal fiction, not a true clan, can lead to . . .” The bug paused again, apparently looking for the right words. “. . . errors in judgment.”

  Tanya sat. “Yes, we heard.” A day and a half after Pandora arrived, another merchantman showed up from Canova system and rumors about the Bonaventure were all over the place. There was nothing official because the Bonaventure wasn’t supposed to be between those two jump points at all, but there was a recording—not a good one, but a recording—that showed the Bonaventure there, then not there, and Pandora continuing its journey in system. “So, what did happen to the Bonaventure?”

  “How would I know? The Bonaventure was nowhere near our course. The records make that clear.”

  Goldgok wasn’t even trying to sound convincing.

  Tanya grinned. “Fine, then. Jackson-Cordoba Trading aren’t my favorite people at the moment. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. Professora Rosita Stuard is quite skilled at informational analysis.”

  “She and her family own ten percent of the Pandora, is that correct?”

  The bug nodded its eyestalks.

  “And you are a stockholder with one share of Cordoba?”

  Again the nod.

  “What about the other Parthian crew?”

  “Unfortunately, we don’t have enough stock available to make all members of the crew stockholders.”

  So Stuard and Schmitz weren’t willing to use all their stock to enfranchise the whole crew. “Is that what you want from me?”

  The eyestalks moved in a different way. “No. Captain Gold sold some of the Pandora to acquire the stock. However, he is unwilling to sell more.”

  Tanya considered that, then nodded. She wouldn’t be willing to sell off control of her ship either, if she had one. Meanwhile, she was on the beach and didn’t have much of a clue what to do with the rest of her life. “Then why do you want me?”

  “We need your ship handling skills and knowledge of Cordoba politics. Commander, we have been attacked by a Drake patrol ship that went rogue. We could use someone with military training.”

  “I hadn’t heard about that,” Tanya said. “Tell me about the Drake ship.”

  Goldgok did, though Tanya got the feeling it was leaving something out. It made her curious and that made her think that she might actually want this job, at least for awhile. “So you want me as first mate?”

  “Yes, and chief engineer, shuttle pilot and common spacer.”

  “That’s a lot of hats.” Tanya grinned. “But I have some heads to wear them, I think.”

  “Really?” The bug didn’t seem surprised.

  “Yes. When the Spaceforce gave me my walking papers, some of the rest of the crew got dumped as well. Any of them who we
ren’t willing to sell me out. That’s Jimmy Dugan, my aide and an experienced exspatio gunnery sergeant. Spacer Fred Markum is a good kid and he can handle a repair drone. Lieutenant Givens was on the bridge and saw the whole thing. Givens doesn’t like me much, but he’s honest and never could keep his mouth shut. He’s a qualified shuttle pilot. And Ensign Petra Allen, who was our assistant engineer.”

  “Do you want Givens?”

  Tanya considered. “Yes. He’s good at his job and I owe him.”

  “We, on the other hand, don’t owe him a thing,” Goldgok said. “If anything, the debt goes the other way.”

  “Good point.” Tonya remembered sitting in the cramped shielded chamber waiting to die and hearing Danny Gold bang on the hatch. Whatever their later arguments, Danny Gold saved her life that day, and the lives of her surviving crew. “I guess we all owe you. All right. If we can work out the details, I’ll provide some crew.”

  Spacer’s Rest, Ferguson Station 2

  Standard Date: 06 27 631

  Jimmy walked into the Spacer’s Rest to see Chuck Givens waving him over. “What’s the word, Jimmy?”

  Jimmy waved, but didn’t answer until he was past the other tables to the large round table in the corner where the former crew of the Jonesy were gathered. Jimmy sketched a salute to Givens and Allen, then waved at Fred. He grabbed a chair and sat. Then he said quietly, “We have a job offer. And it’s the Pandora.”

  “The Pandora?” Givens asked, not sounding all that pleased.

  “Yep. The same ship that saved us,” Jimmy said.

  “But it’s crewed by bugs,” Petra Allen said. “At least, that’s the rumor going around.”

  “And, as usual, rumor overstates the facts.” Jimmy explained the makeup of the Pandora’s present crew as he punched in a drink order.

  “Look, Jimmy,” Fred Markum said, “I know we owe Gold, but I’ve never worked with one of the bugs. And the stories don’t make it sound like something I want to try.”

  “Maybe not. But what else are you gonna do, Markum?” Chuck Givens said. “It’s not like you can re-up in the Spaceforce. You gonna stay here and be a shuttle driver when the station can find you work?”