by Wayne Watson
“So, Mister- you had a mutiny?”
“Sir- they refused to follow my directions to police their quarters.”
“And you took what action?”
“Sir, I withdrew to seek further instruction.”
“I see. I believe Mr. Ramirez has since advised you on the correct procedure, in these instances?”
“Aye Sir."
“The lesson here, Mister, is to seek the advice of you senior NCOs’ BEFORE you get yourself into a position. Do you understand this?”
“Aye Sir.”
“Then I suggest a disciplinary exercise to teach the collaborators who is in charge. Do you have any idea as to who's advice to seek?"
“Yes, Sir- my Warrant Officer, Sir.”
“Dismissed Ensign.”
***
“Subspace proximity alert, Sir- vessel in the 150 kilotonne class system inbound.”
“Sound General Quarters- all weapons to 'safe' and track.”
The ship burst out of subspace and within seconds had started vectoring to match course with the bulk freighter and escort. The speed with which it changed course told them that it was the 'Fury', even as the IFF codes were verified.
“Stand down from General Quarters,” said Commander Hendrik. “Stand by to receive freight- all shuttle crews to your stations.”
“Sir- I have an incoming transmission in clear from 'Wotan's Fury'.”
“On the main viewer, Yeoman.”
Captain Jamieson's face appeared on the screen. “Greetings 'Jolly Roger'- I have four hundred tonnes of food on board and want to transfer immediately. What is your status?”
“Sir- 'Jolly Roger' and prize are in much better shape than when last we met. My shuttle crews will commence cross-loading on your clearance.”
“Carry on, Commander. I will be coming across with the first return shuttle for a full debrief. Jamieson out.”
“Lieutenant Phillips- a Quarter Guard for the CO, if you please, bay two,” ordered Hendrik. "Officer of the Watch- have the chief steward prepare the briefing room to receive the CO.”
At least they had first-rate coffee to offer the Captain.
***
Wayne returned the Marines salute and Tom dismissed the Guard, leaving them to the orderly sergeant. A steward followed them dragging a large hamper on a cart. “A few essentials for your mess,” said Wayne. “From the signals I have had a chance to read, you found enough food to hold out OK?”
“Thanks to a fitter's mate with experience working bulk carriers- who taught me that there is often another way.”
Wayne laughed. “Have his section head present him at Captain's Mast- I'm staying on-board this leg. Charlie needs a shot at conning the 'Fury' without me looking over his shoulder.”
“Will do,” said Tom. “Speaking of 'Hearts & Minds'- most of the rescued captives are doing real well. One lot is refurbishing the ship, another are undergoing rehab, but the others...
Crow generational slaves- and here is the rub- there are far too many of them here. They never leave a family, unless the family is taken over or falls foul of the sultanate.”
“Tom, I'm going to leave that one for the empire's specialists to sort out. In the meantime, have you got them under control?”
Tom gave a wiry grin. “Mr. Johnson has learnt much regarding the handling of institutionalized slaves.”
“I found oxygen deprivation proves useful in difficult cases.”
“As did Mr. Johnson- he also showed that Marines with hard brooms and industrial detergent soon end 'dirty strikes'.”
“The lad shows promise.”
***
By the time they hadreached the bridge of the 'Jolly Roger', the next shuttle was already unloading- this one full of long awaited clothing and textiles for the ship's tailor module. Along with foodstuffs, Wayne had purchased many tonnes of other items- toiletries; blankets- even book readers and a few entertainment units. He considered that money spent keeping the passengers a bit happier was a good investment. They stood to make a great deal of money from this mission, a significant part of which would be the bounty on rescued citizens by the Empire.
Taking his place at the head of the table, Captain Jamieson said “Where are we at with our prize? - Engineering first.”
“Sir, with the exception of the FTL Tractor, we are nominally operational. All critical systems are in good working order- ancillaries need lots of small repairs and adjustments. We have 55 civilians with engineering experience assisting with repairs.
“Personnel?”
“Approximately 2000 civilians in good spirits, giving us a labour pool of about 1000, who are assisting with engineering and housekeeping, 2000 civilians deadheading- not much use but not much trouble either- the first civilian pool are taking care of them. Then we have 1000 considered hostile aliens. Sir, we have anecdotal evidence that they have been used by the Crows to loot settlements when raiding- this is how they are stripping these settlements so fast.”
“In other words, this vessel has been actively involved with the slavers?”
“Affirmative, Sir- We believe she holds ½ a light out from the raid and acts as a support ship.”
“Supporting evidence, Commander?”
“Specialist equipment found, barracks on board, navigation records and loot located amongst the cargo inspected. All documented and evidence preserved for Naval Intelligence.”
“Good work. That intel will pull down a hefty bonus.”
“One more point, Sir- we found docillation implantation equipment and implants in their surgery.”
“Damn- we may have been a bit hasty in releasing the crew. I would now rather that Naval Intelligence mind-fucked the lot of them. Still, it's done- QM- your appraisal of hull and cargo?”
“Sir, the ship is going to fetch 3.8 to 4 billion on the market, if you sell at New Chicago or one of the old worlds. No system out near the rim could afford her. The cargo- 90% of the manifest is encrypted- I have sent that data to 'Fury' for her computers to work on. Based on the other 10%- which is probably lower-valued cargo and the three percent physically inspected, I estimate the general cargo to be worth about 12 billion. Bulk cargo- another 800 million in industrial gases, chemicals and minerals. That is conservative, gentlemen, and I recommend selling off our cargo as we stop over. Too much in one market and we drive the prices down. But Sir, I was saving this for last- we located a high security hold near the center of the ship. This contained processed fissile material- forty-seven tonnes and some 19,000 litres of hydrogen isotopes- pure, not heavy water. That lot we are going to have to let the Navy put a price on.”
“Yes, I will do a trade on the last,” replied Captain Jamieson. “But as for the rest- we have enough loot here to buy out our shareholders- which action I propose to put to a meeting of all stakeholder officers at first opportunity. We have a way to go yet, although it should be all routine, so let's keep focused on the mission- and keep the troops minds on the job and not on drinking their prize money.
Let's get into subspace, then we can think about a night off- it's about time the mess had a slap-up formal dinner. Now gentlemen, to your posts.”
What Wayne had not told them was that in several months they were going to do the same sort of raid again, before the Crows had the chance to react and beef up the escorts.
Which was what the Imperial Navy wanted- the Crow’s capital ships tied up with freighter escorts...
***
On approach to Yalumba, permission had been given for a few of the civilians to visit the freighter's owners lounge- here they could view the famous sight of the gas giant Opal and its numerous incandescent neon rings- a light display unequaled throughout the explored galaxy.
“I must say that I would never have expected a Free Company to be such pleasant hosts,” said Colony Leader Antares.
“It just goes to show that you can't believe what you see on the 3D,” said Captain Jamieson, with a laugh. “You will be seeing us from time to time
, as we pass through this sector every few years. I'm expecting a good return on my investment here.”
“I'm sure that you will get one- it will be a long term one, mind.”
“I want a lot of long-term investments- one day we will get out of this game.”
Jamieson had traveled ahead to arrange a home for the rescued colonists- Yalumba being what is known as a 'big planet'- one with a land mass larger than it's oceans, they were readily accepted by the planets leaders- especially given that Captain Jamieson's company were sponsoring them.
During the weeks in subspace, they had located much of their looted colony equipment and stores, plus the Free Company has added other loot and credit to replace that which had been lost- for a shareholding in this new colony. Normally, a colony would land to find buildings set up by robot drones- in this case local machinery had been hired to do the same job- setting up a landing field, stores and temporary accommodation for shelter until their own could be built. Their claim was over 1000 km from the nearest settlement- not a virgin world, but fairly close to it.
In a few short hours, they would be starting over again. Most failed colonies never got this chance.
***
The gig touched down on a square of grass near the river, about 200 meters from the mission building- a large rectangular structure made from locally quarried limestone blocks- not the usual silico-concrete domes, favored by Imperial colonies. It was the sort of structure once common in hot climates- massive stone walls to insulate from the summer sun and it gave the appearance of having been a part of the landscape for centuries- it was one of the older buildings on the planet, having been raised about 100 years earlier. On the other side of the river were similar structures- the famous winery which tunneled into a nearby escarpment to make the cellars. Grapevines covered the river terraces and sheep and cattle wandered about the river flats, through which flowed an oxbow river of crystal-clear water from the mountains some thirty kilometers away. Willow and Poplar trees followed the river and older Oaks, Gums and Acacia were scattered about the fields, giving welcome shade to the stock. The surrounding hills were dry and yellow, while the irrigated land closer to the river was a lush green. The skies were an azure blue with just a few tiny wisps of cloud and temperature was a pleasant 26 degrees- although it was only 1000 hrs local and would get hotter later in the day.
A small group waited by the edge of the field. The surgeon of the ‘Jolly Rodger’s’ oldest daughter, her husband and their two young children. Wayne and Lillian exited the lock, carrying a small sleeping figure. 'I gave her a mild sedative,” Lillian said.
“Good,” said Emily, her daughter. “Let's get this little one to bed, then we can have a drink and supper- you said you could stay a while?”
“We have a couple of extra days,” said Wayne, as they walked up to the mission. “We decided to take on some cargo for New Chicago while we were here- we were going that way and had plenty of space, so your wine co-op got a good price on the freight.”
“That's one cargo we don't have to worry about losing then,” said her husband Jim. He looked up to the skies to where the huge form of the 'Golden Caravan' could be easily seen in its low orbit. “That is one big ship- how much cargo are you taking on here?”
“148 kilotonnes- your whole vintage and assorted other cargo. We captured her almost full, but have off-loaded 2000 colonists and most of their equipment that we recovered- that left us a couple of bays to fill up- no point in running empty.”
They were now at the main gate to the mission compound, a pair of 6x4 meter latticed steel gates hung open- they were closed at night, more to stop stock wandering in and fouling the courtyard. The sun was setting and the Mission was winding down for the evening, with only the older girls still up- they were watching the 3D in the senior classes lounge. As was the practice here, this was the adult staff's time to take a meal and relax, now that the heat of the day had eased off. The mission was of a classic design- open plan and airy, with high ceilings and lots of arches. Earthy terra-cotta tones dominated and colour was added with bright pots filled with decorative plants and miniature fruit trees.
The mission was really a small walled village, with a central pathway and two rows of three-storied structures- dormitories, living quarters and classrooms. An atrium joined the two blocks. The ground floor apartments opened out onto private courtyards, the classrooms were on the first floor and the dormitories on the second floor. At the other end of the compound were a commissary and a swimming pool. All the buildings were roofed with replica terra-cotta tiles, made from near-indestructible silica-concrete.
“We will put her in one of the guest rooms tonight, next to your rooms, so she can see familiar faces when she wakes,” said Emily. “This part is never easy, the leaving.”
“This child seems very resilient,” said Lillian. “We are sure she was taken from Travelers and they tend to foster and pass children about their extended families.”
“Which doesn't make it any easier for you, mum,” said Emily. “You always were a big softy when you thought no-one was watching.” She pointed out a plain, but well-appointed room and they carried the sleeping Jenny in and tucked her into bed. Emily slaved the monitor to her wrist comm, so that they could listen for her waking- not likely after the sedative. “Tomorrow we will buddy her up with a couple of the older girls- no need to be concerned, we do this sort of thing all the time here.”
Leaving her husband to put the children to bed, Emily lead her visitors to her private garden, an eight x eight meter space, paved with flagstones of laser-cut native stone and home to a small water feature that sprayed the tropical plantings and helped cool the air. A table of teak wood was set with places for four and Emily started laying out plates from a small chiller unit. "This is our usual fare here- a light meal at the end of a hot day- if you want anything else, I will have the kitchen send it over.”
“No- this is splendid,” said Wayne. “It's much the same on ship- meals get lighter as the watch gets later.”
“I should have thought- would you prefer to eat indoors Captain?”
“Outdoors is a great change- I spend almost all of my time inside a ship these days, but I do enjoy the sky over my head too. Thanks for asking, though- a lot of old spacers get the agoraphobia quite bad, but I'm not one of them.”
“This fare is splendid- our hydroponics section never produces enough fruit or vegetables for our liking- and Yalumba produce is second to none,” said Lillian.
“True,” said Wayne. “This food would fetch top credit on the outer mining worlds- in fact I will buy a few tonnes next time I do the Helzin run.”
Emily's husband Jim returned with two bottles. “I will let the Cabernet breath for a while, while we start with the Chardonnay.”
Wayne picked up the bottle. “One of the few not of old Earth that finds it's way to the Imperial court. I suspect much of the shipment I'm loading will be headed there.”
“Certainly all of the premium labels,” said Jim, who was the head winemaker. “I'm proud to say that our own label is now in that category. What you may not have heard, is that we have branched out into our own brandy.”
“Well, I will certainly have to give you my opinion on that,” said Wayne, looking forward to trying a brandy made from the empire's finest grapes.
After a leisurely supper and some excellent wine, they retired to a garden area just outside the mission walls. By now the place was much quieter, the older girls having been sent off to bed by the duty matron and the abundant bird life had roosted for the evening. All that was to be heard were the few night-hunting owls, a cricket-like native insect and the gentle sound of moving water coming from the nearby river.
The brandy was indeed up to the standard of the rest of their fare. The sky reddened into darkness, with just the light of the three small moons and Wayne produced a cigar case. “A meal like that needs this final touch.”
They prepared and lit the cigars then sat and smoked in qui
et reflection for a while. Lillian finally broke the silence. “That little one will be up early, so I had best be off to bed soon- she is used to seeing my face first watch.”
“Yes, we don't want to keep you from your work tomorrow.”
“Nonsense,” said Emily. “This is our down-time until the next harvest comes in and we have plenty of time for guests- especially ones who only come by every three or four years.”
“We will be in this sector a bit more often now,” Wayne informed them. “The armed escort market is growing as cargoes in these fringe areas increase in value- you are no longer the frontier, but sure aren't part of the inner circle worlds yet. I promised not to say too much, but I had talks with your Governor and there are a few new trading partnerships in the wind.”
“I never thought of you as a freighter,” said Jim.
“Oh, we carry freight all right,” said Wayne. “It's just that much of it is loot.”
***
Jenny had used her metabolic control to counteract the sedative and was now laying awake, feigning sleep with her head under the light blanket. For the next couple of days, she could continue much as normal, but would have to remember to act a little agoraphobic- and be afraid of open water- for a while, as she 'adapted' to life on a planet. For a few days they would watch her closely, but would stop doing so once she appeared to settle in. Not a difficult piece of acting- the hard part were these early bedtimes.
***
By the time Lillian awoke, the apartment was quiet. “The children have taken her off to the aviary to feed the Cockatoos,” said Emily. “If they don't get fed early you can hear the screeching from here. Wayne left at first light- said he was off to check out the countryside.”
“That will be him gone for the day then, even at the speed he travels at. About time he took some kind of a break.” Emily pushed the coffee pot across the table and Lillian took a refill.
“What's with the aviary? Don't you have enough of those feathered noisemakers about the place already?”
“Tame Cockies are the hottest new export item- 5000 Imperials for a talking bird back in the circle.”
“Damn. That's good money for a pest.”
“It offsets some of the damage the birds do to our fruit, anyway.”
“Don't you have such a thing as a shock field out here?”