“Take the seed and carry it home, courier,” the Elder stated as I took the case.
“Asthore’. If I had known about the children,” I began when Corentin leaned in and whispered in my ear.
“You occupied Bríet. We freed the children,” he said wisely. “It did not require liters of blood and death.”
He had a valid point.
While I collected my luggage and sea bag, Koloman had the Marines escort and protect the Major and his aids. They walked a potential gauntlet of fuming Druids as they made their way towards the hatchway.
Tanguy came in as the last Marine passed through the hatch.
“I’m just going to take the sea bag,” he said. “Not asking if you need anything, based on the last time.”
Chapter 13
“Flight Control, this is the Yacht Elouan,” Tanguy radioed the Heavy Cruiser’s traffic center. “Requesting push back authority.”
“Elouan, this is Combat Control, stand by,” a voice responded.
An Tiodhlac Òir must be moving to support the relief convoy. This presented the Yacht’s captain with a small problem. Not only was the defensive screen packed with extra layers, they were shifting to maintain the bubble of protection around the capital warship. When Combat Control takes over from Flight Control the situation was critical and getting a civilian vessel launched became complicated.
“Standing by, Combat Control,” Tanguy confirmed. He looked down from the pilot seat to where I sprawled at the navigation station. “I wanted to be away before the operation started.”
“I am sorry about the delay, Fire Dog,” I responded using his call sign. “But there were a few people I needed to say goodbye to.”
“I noticed the blood on the deck of the departure lounge,” he said. “Remind me to not have you say goodbye to me.”
“Where did you pick up the Druid Warriors?” I asked changing the topic to keep us from going too deep into the action in the departure lounge.
“From Uno. Let me tell you, I’ve transported a lot of Druids over the years,” he said. “None were as scary as that bunch.”
“Too stoic?” I teased.
“Just the opposite. They practiced with naked blades, ran around the ship for cardio, and challenged the engineer, the chef and the steward,” he reported. “Unlike average Druids, who keep their own company and ignore my crew, those Druids were looking for a fight.”
“I can imagine an aggressive Druid would be a problem,” I said. “Did you personally have any confrontations with them?”
“Nope, I’m the captain. If they pushed me, I’d have dropped them on an asteroid,” Tanguy stated. “All fifty of them.”
I wasn’t sure how the old space pilot would have managed it, but somehow, I believed him. Apparently, so had the Druids.
“Speaking of orbiting rocks,” I said as I dug into my pocket. “What do you make of this?”
I tossed him the sample rock from the barren planet. He caught it and bounced it on his palm testing the weight. Then he turned the rock at different angles studying each edge before finally bringing it close to his eyes. At one point during the inspection, Tanguy scraped at a line of the mineral with his finger nail.
“It’s a good example of an ore vein’s terminus,” Tanguy announced. “Where did you buy it?”
Was my crash landing during the mission a secret? It might be, but I figured nothing would be compromised by telling Fire Dog about the origin of the rock.
“I didn’t buy it,” I informed him. “It came from a cave on a barren planet a few hours from Construction station’s current location.”
Tanguy swung another screen into position and pulled up an astrological map of the sector. With a swipe, he sent the chart to the navigation screen.
‘Show me where?” he demanded.
“It’s just an interesting rock,” I commented while searching for the planet. After consulting my PID, I found the coordinates and punched them into the screen.
“There it is. The big rock orbiting the blue giant,” I announced. “Not a fun place to visit. Bad accommodations, low gravity, and a thin, poisonous atmosphere.”
“J-Pop, I need to assay the ore. Can I hold onto the sample?” he asked with a pleading in his voice.
“Fire Dog, you can keep it,” I said. “It’s just a memento from a mission gone bad.”
Before we could speak more about the rock, Combat Control called.
“Yacht Elouan. You are cleared for push back,” the voice said. “Be advised, your route through the screen is bracketed.”
Combat Control had just warned Tanguy his track through the screen was limited to a narrow path. Should he wander off the route, the Yacht could be fired on.
“Want me to pilot?” I asked. As a Navy pilot, there were fewer restrictions imposed on me than on a civilian pilot.
“No, Sir, I kind of like the challenge,” Fire Dog replied.
In his younger days, Tanguy had been an asteroid miner. Navigating safe passages between shifting bodies of rock was not only a prerequisite to the job but for survival. With a go-ahead motion of my hand and a smile, I acknowledged his decision.
“Combat Control, Elouan is pushing back,” Tanguy replied to the flight controller.
On the screen, I could see the docking lines. The air-lock tube was already green as the space technicians had minutes before unlatched the flimsy fabric. The fore and aft lights flashed green as they uncoupled the mooring lines. Captain Tanguy eased power to the ion cannons and the Elouan drifted away from the Heavy Cruiser.
“Combat Control, be advised the civilian Yacht Elouan is entering the pattern,” Tanguy announced.
“Copy. The Yacht Elouan is entering the pattern,” the controller confirmed. “Safe travels.”
The proximity warning blared. It’s steady throbbing would end when the Yacht and the Heavy Cruiser were no longer close enough that a slight turn could cause a crash. There were no minor fender-benders in space. Speed was relative, space large, and distance over time measured the acceleration of a ship. Yet, if two ships collided, the closing speed of two space vessels was enormous. The resulting damage colossal especially to a Yacht versus a Heavy Cruiser scenario. Quiet settled on the Yacht’s command deck as we moved away from An Tiodhlac Òir.
***
A standard defensive screen consisted of eight Fighters, two BattlePlatforms and six Gunships. When a Heavy Cruiser steamed towards an enemy, the screen was anything but standard.
“You’d think they would just let us squirt out the back,” Tanguy commented as the Yacht reached a double layer of Fighters. “Instead, they have me threading through a pipe like flushed waste down a drainage system.”
Once beyond the first line of the screen, space opened up. In the distance, flights of Bricks flew onto our view screens from over the top of the Heavy Cruiser while other flights vanished as they passed under the massive warship. I noticed the flights angled towards us before veering off to continue their circuit.
“I believe Combat Control is using your Yacht for targeting practice,” I informed Tanguy.
“I thought they said if I moved off the track I’d be targeted,” Fire Dog said as he made another course adjustment following the zig-zag route required by Combat Control.
“If you had access to the Navy net, you would not be happy,” I stated. “At this point, we’ve been locked onto and shot to pieces, simulation wise, about a hundred times.”
“That’s why the convoluted route?” Tanguy asked. “But why?”
“Most of our pilots have no real combat experience,” I explained. “Until recently, the most combat any of them saw was against pirates in ships with limited armament.”
“And now they face the Constabulary Navy with serious assets,” Tanguy said. “Well I guess, as good citizens of the Realm, we’re doing our part to support the war effort. Target away Navy, just don’t shoot for real.”
“There’s the problem,” I added. “Citizens of the Galactic Council R
ealm don’t know we’re at war.”
We left the circling BattlePlatforms behind and two hours later, encountered the Gunships. While the Fighters and Bricks had been subtle in their wargaming, out here on the last layer of the defensive screen, the Gunships made no pretense. The Yacht was buzzed, electronically strafed broadside, played chicken with by head on attacks, and generally treated as if we were a targeting drone.
***
“You want to do the plot to our first evolution point?” inquired Tanguy once the Gunships were far behind us and he no longer had to pilot the irregular course.
“Not an issue. What’s our first port of call?” I asked while calling up a recent map of known space hazards.
“Only one stop on this cruise,” Tanguy informed me. “My sailing orders are to deliver you and a package directly to planet Uno.”
The Druid Council of Elders had designated an entire Yacht to bringing one passenger and the White Heart plant’s seed to the Druid homeland. If the Elders were diverting a valuable resource to the task, why would Major Bríet feel the need to take the seed by force? I shook off the question and did an initial plot.
“One week’s cruising before the turn,” I stated. “Sending the course to you for approval.”
“Looks good, if not overly conservative,” observed Tanguy after a cursory glance.
Captain Tanguy and I had a history with him plotting dangerous but expedient courses and me questioning his judgement. In this case, it was him judging my work.
“Do you want me to aim us at a few planets to make it interesting?” I asked.
“No J-Pop, this should do nicely,” he replied as he changed to a new heading.
“I’m glad you agree,” I said.
“Didn’t say I agreed. It’s just I’m hungry and need a break,” Tanguy commented. “Mister Piran, you have the Bridge.”
“I have the Bridge, Captain Tanguy.”
***
The ship’s engineer relieved me after my shift and I went below for a few hours of sleep. It felt odd walking through the empty lounge behind the Bridge and through the other compartments without seeing another person. When you were raised on stations and spent most of your life on space vessels, you got used to having people around. I crawled under the blanket and fell asleep.
My PID buzzed. I looked at the device and saw I’d been asleep for five hours. It seemed Captain Tanguy had decided I’d had enough rest.
‘J-Pop. Come have breakfast with me,’ Fire Dog sent.
‘Be there in fifteen,’ I sent back.
After a quick wash and shave, I pulled wrinkled dungarees out of my sea bag and got dressed. Then I left the cabin, climbed the ladder to the first level, and made my way astern to the galley.
“Morning J-Pop. Have a seat,” Tanguy said using my call sign to let me know this was an informal meeting. With ship’s Captains, you could never be sure.
“Good morning, Fire Dog,” I replied as I took a seat at his table.
The steward took my order and I looked at Tanguy expecting him to start the conversation. He stared into his coffee then turned his head sideways and watched the steward until the man disappeared down the ladder.
“This is a confidential conversation,” Tanguy announced. “I ran an assay on the rock sample. It took me awhile to get the old spectrograph functioning. Once it did, I scraped a dusting of ore, put it on a tray and cranked up the machine.”
Although I’d never been to the Captain’s suite, I wasn’t surprised to hear the old miner had a collection of equipment from his previous career. A lot of spacefarers gathered artifacts that held meaning for them. As if memorable items anchored them to a place or experience or a long-gone dream, they displayed them on shelves for moments of contemplation. My past as a Sergeant of Marines was in a sealed file and my uniforms and medals confiscated and placed somewhere in deep storage. Again, I reflected on the absence of any possessions dear to me.
“And what did you find?” I asked.
“As I mentioned before, the lines in the rock appear to be the end of or start of a vein of ore,” Fire Dog explained. “The sample is mostly lanthanium and yttrium. Do you know what that means?”
I could tell he was bursting to tell me by the way he braced against the table, leaned across it, and beamed a broad smile at me.
Before I could answer, the steward returned with breakfast and more coffee. Tanguy, unlike his usual passive self, brushed off the server and waved him away before the man could ask if we needed anything else. I wanted orange marmalade but the steward had retreated before I requested the sweet topping.
“Apparently Captain Tanguy, five hours of sleep was enough, and me eating a biscuit without my preferred condiment is fine with you,” I complained. “Please, what does the presence of lanthanium and yttrium mean?”
He leaned across the table and whispered, “Erbium, lad, a rich vein of Erbium ore. And best of all, the system had been surveyed and passed over as unprofitable by the mining corporations.”
“Didn’t you learn anything from the last time you flirted with potential riches from mining,” I asked.
“I sure did. Don’t tell anyone about the find,” he replied. “Except your partner.”
“Partner?”
“Yes, Lieutenant Piran, you and I are partners,” he announced. “All we need is to scrap together enough Pesetas to register the claim. And for a surface mill, drilling rigs, a hauling shuttle, a few ore-cars, a living dome, hiring a crew…”
“Hold on Fire Dog. Bottom line, how many Pesetas?” I inquired.
“Oh, we should be able to pull it off with about a million Pesetas,” he exclaimed before the enormity of the number hit him. Once it was stated out loud, his face went blank and he slumped in his chair. “Or, we could file the claim, commission a survey and sell the rights. But then, we’d have the million Pesetas but no mine. So close to reality but so far away. At least this time no one has to blow me up to kill my dream.”
I sat picking at my breakfast and thought of my lone sea bag and small suitcase. Being raised by Druids taught me not to value, or become attached to, possessions. Maybe it was the coming war. History was full of stories of men and women dreaming of a future when death lingered nearby. And of them returning home to live full productive lives as if just surviving wasn’t enough after losing friends and comrades.
“I’m a Senior Lieutenant in the Galactic Council Navy,” I reported to Tanguy. “Plus, I’m a courier and troubleshooter for the Druid Council of Elders.”
“What does that have to do with this?” Tanguy asked.
“I’m already busy with other duties. Way too busy to consider running a mining enterprise,” I explained. “That being said, I happen to have a million Pesetas in my credit union account.”
“What condiment are you missing, partner?” Tanguy asked. I told him and he raised both arms in the air and waved at the steward. “Bring Senior Lieutenant Piran some orange marmalade. No, bring him all the orange marmalade we have on the ship. If we run out, make some more for him.”
As the server jogged down the ladder to the ship’s pantry, I inquired of Captain Tanguy, “Do you really think we’ll be rich?”
“Beyond your wildest dreams,” he assured me. “Before you know it, as quick as lightening from the sky on planet Uno, you’ll be set for the rest of your life.”
Chapter 14
Planet Uno was a green and blue ball floating in the black of space. Soon the transport Station orbited into view and the Elouan drew close enough to make out the Clipper ships, cargo containers, and Sloops docked around the station. Somewhere in a higher orbit, the Navy’s command station rotated around the first planet of the Galactic Council Realm. And further out, the Battleship Glynis Gavin followed a circuit protecting them all.
“Flight Control, this is the Druid Yacht Elouan requesting priority docking,” Tanguy radioed. He used the Druid designation to leap ahead of other Yachts and shuttles waiting their turn to land at the station.
“Fire Dog, I’m not in that big a rush,” I informed him. “And the package isn’t time sensitive.”
“I know. But I have an appointment with a lawyer and a survey broker,” Tanguy responded. “We have the claim verified but I want to be proactive before the big companies discover what we’re doing.”
“What you are doing. I’m just a silent partner,” I reminded him. “If we’re going to be docked that soon, you might want to contact the Druids for my transportation.”
“Already done,” he assured me.
“Yacht Elouan, you are cleared for intake tube four,” Flight Control responded.
Tanguy lined us up and we shot through the tunnel bleeding off acceleration as the Yacht reacted to the station’s gravity. Once through the third air curtain, we dropped onto a sled and Fire Dog raised both arms into the air.
“This is the last time I pilot this landing, lad,” he announced.
“How so?”
“The next time I arrive at this station or any station, it’ll be in my own Yacht,” Tanguy said. “And it wouldn’t be through an industrial intake tube. My private pilot will take me down tube one and straight to the VIP dock.”
“I’m sure he will,” I said humoring him.
“She will,” Fire Dog corrected me.
The sled bumped against a dock and Captain Tanguy powered open the hatches.
“I’ll be in touch,” he promised as I hauled my luggage and the seed case out of the Yacht and onto Transport station.
***
I stood on the industrial dock and marveled at the emptiness. Usually, the piers would be stuffed with crew shuttles and Yachts ferrying ship’s captains and shipping agents out to cargo vessels. Only about a third of the facility held ships and none of the workers seemed to be in any rush.
Whether the Galactic Council and Naval Command wanted to admit it or not, the Empress was having a major effect on the Realm. If this dock was an example, then deep space commerce was slowing and that would soon cripple the economy. Command would either fight or risk seeding half the Realm to the Constabulary. Even then, judging from my experiences, the Empress wouldn’t be satisfied.
On Point (Galactic Council Realm Book 4) Page 16