Coalition Defense Force Boxed Set: First to Fight

by Gibbs, Daniel

  "I know." He cradled his head in his hands. It wasn't going to bankrupt the ship necessarily, but it left them at risk of bankruptcy if he didn't get paid once they arrived at Lusitania. At least he would collect from Caetano, even if a part of him still balked at working with her over Vitorino or al-Lahim.

  With a heavy sigh, Henry took out his digital pad and accessed his account through the station's GalNet connection. Khánh helpfully sent the official payment request to him, and he used the thumbprint and voiceprint authorization, with a typed PIN number, to approve the transaction. He watched his account balance steadily drop.

  "Thank you, Jim," Khánh said. She smiled softly. "Just to help out, I cut my labor cost. My personal cost, I mean."

  Henry realized Khánh was saying she didn't get paid for the hours of overseeing the critical hull repairs her people had handled or for the several hours she'd spent triple-checking the fusion drive system to ensure they hadn't damaged anything with their intense use of it during the Tash'vakal ambush. Compared to materials costs, it wasn’t much of the total, but he welcomed the gesture. "Thank you," he said, forcing gratitude.

  Khánh's smile turned melancholy. "I know I say this every so often, but I'll say it again: you saved Tia's life when you took her into your crew. If you hadn't, she'd have gotten herself killed by now. Or straight-up committed suicide."

  "She's tough," Henry replied. "Don't sell her short."

  "I don't. But I know her. And being tough doesn't save someone from a crushed spirit." Khánh stood. "Your repairs, as ordered, should be done tonight. Will you be leaving then?"

  "Yeah. We've got a run to complete."

  "I'll see if anyone's got a safe cargo heading for Lusitania," she said. "Maybe it'll get you a little something extra for the trip. To keep you flying."

  "Maybe. Either way, thanks again." Henry gave her a parting smile before walking out of her office.

  Leaving Khánh's office took him by a break room for the dockworkers and the path leading to their shower and changing room. Further on, the door swished open and let him into the Docking Arm 3 concourse. It wasn't as bustling as other space stations might have been, since Trinidad was on the border of being a pirate station instead of a legitimate one and didn't get the same level of traffic. But there were still a fair number of examples of humanity and other alien species milling about, going to and from the lifts to the central station. He followed the path away from the lifts and toward the repair dock where the Shadow Wolf was located.

  The inside of the Shadow Wolf was looking better than when she'd left. Most of the visible hull breaches were closed, and Khánh's people were working on the last few. The damaged holds were intact again. It was clear the ship had been hurt, but she was at least getting her wounds closed.

  Yanik stood just inside the port airlock, his massive form visible as Henry approached the hatch into the ship. His Saurian second mate was observing the repairs carefully. "We're due to finish tomorrow," Henry said. "How's Pieter and the new girl doing?"

  "They have finished repairs to the Lawrence drive," Yanik replied. "I am told the sublight drives will be ready by tonight."

  "Good." Henry stepped into the airlock. "Interior repairs?"

  "Mostly done. We await the completion of the remaining breach repairs to continue our work."

  "Good." Henry continued into the vessel while Yanik remained outside. He checked on the galley and rec room before heading to the empty quarters where their guest was located.

  Miri sat alone, staring at the wall with a look Henry sometimes saw in his mirror. She quietly turned her head to face him. "Captain."

  "Ms. Gaon." Since she was seated on the bed in the room, he took up the desk chair. "We need to talk. There's been a development."

  "What kind?"

  "New Cornish authorities want Karla Lupa arrested. Apparently, she's a pirate agent under an assumed name."

  Surprise flashed across her face. Her expression turned thoughtful a moment later. She was considering the ramifications. "They're discrediting me," she finally said, "because they don't like my testimony. Patricia Odon wouldn't need much to show I'm a legend. From there, it's easy to insist I'm a pirate agent and not a spacer looking for a new start."

  "Apparently so," Henry said. "It's why I figure Caetano and maybe Vitorino still want to talk to you. They don't find the case convincing, while al-Lahim just wants to ensure nobody thinks you're Karla Lupa."

  "Once I'm in his care, he'll put me in a safehouse and get me a ship back to Canaan or New Israel," she said. "The CIS doesn't want me to fall into League hands any more than I do."

  "You're okay with going home?"

  She shrugged. "The danger's the same in either place. There are League agents back home, too, after all."

  "But you're less likely to get taken back by them," Henry pointed out. "Honestly, that's what's confused me the most about you, Miri. Why'd you bother coming out to neutral space? The League could grab you out here. Back home, the best they might manage is an assassination."

  "Are you confused by this? Really?" Miri stared at him. "Your ship could easily have made its way, working in Coalition space. You're still a Coalition citizen, after all. Instead, you came to neutral space, where half of the planets see our people as threats to their independence. As far as they're concerned, we're moralistic busybodies and religious zealots little better than the League."

  "I'm not a heroic special agent who caused the League one of its most severe defeats, apparently," he replied. "I'm the disgraced commander who got people killed while testing a new engine. It's not as easy for me to find work in Coalition space as you think."

  "I suppose not. But that's not why you left, is it?"

  Their eyes met. Henry could see the calculation in hers. Miri Gaon, the expert infiltrator, was gauging him. Testing him for responses, for emotional weaknesses she could utilize.

  He didn't like that, as much as he understood it. "I had my reasons," he said.

  "As did I," she replied. "Among other things, a moving target is harder to hit." A wry look came over her face. "HaShem has now reminded me that a moving target can blunder into the hands of her hunter without either knowing it."

  "They say God works in mysterious ways."

  "You say that with a tone of a man who doesn't believe in God."

  Henry chuckled. "You might say I've become a bit agnostic. I asked for God's help, and I didn't get a response. So either there's no God, or He's not listening or otherwise doesn't care. I admit I tend toward thinking the latter."

  "Why?"

  "You have to ask?" Henry feigned bemusement. "Look at the state of our species. Why would God want anything to do with us while we kill and torture each other over ideology? I mean, the League's not some spawn of Satan. It's born of human arrogance and conceit, and the Coalition's got a bad side that's got a big stink. And the neutral worlds aren't any better. Crime and corruption and oppression… it's all out here." He sighed. "Vidia thinks I'm just carrying a spiritual wound, and when it heals, I'll rediscover my faith, but honestly, I've seen too much to have any delusions about a divine plan being carried out."

  Miri nodded in agreement. "I understand you," she said. "I assume you were Christian?"

  "Yes. Methodist."

  "As a Jew, I was raised Orthodox," Miri said. "For a time, I became an atheist after my successful 'socialization,' to keep my cover."

  Henry nodded. "We hear stories about the camps. People being worked to death as slave labor, executed for being believers."

  "In some cases, yes," Miri said, trying not to think of Christopher and Annette. "The slave labor isn't just for the labor. It's… part of the method. They believe we need to learn to work as members of Society. To not expect an individual reward for individual effort, but to work solely for the joy of working for the good of all."

  "Oskar and Brigitte have their own stories about being raised in that system," Henry said. "Oskar makes Earth sound like some socialist paradise. Peop
le get whatever they want or need regardless of the work they do. Despite everything, sometimes I think he misses it."

  "It is. Earth and Mars get the first pick of resources in the League. And Earth itself mostly exists to support the League government. The planetary economy outside of government operation is mostly things like state-protected cottage industries for cultural value. Mars is… well, these days, its importance as a founding component of the League of Sol is vestigial, mostly, but it's still the site of their most advanced military-research bureau."

  "They taught you history while you were undercover?"

  "A sanitized version," Miri said. "I learned the more unofficial version as part of my mission."

  "And after you were pulled out? Still an atheist?"

  "No. I believe in HaShem." Miri shook her head. "I don't think I'm worthy of being one of his children anymore. The things I did in his name, in the name of the Coalition, they were…" She swallowed. "There's innocent blood on my hands and my soul, Captain Henry. How else should I feel?"

  Henry shook his head. "I don't know. I—" He stopped. "I can't talk about it."

  "It’s painful, isn't it?"

  "It is. But not the only reason I can't talk about it."

  He could see Miri considering his wording before understanding came. "Then I won't pry. A gesture from one wounded soul to another."

  "Thank you.” There was nothing else he thought it right to say.

  * * *

  Despite Linh's efforts, there was no load going to Lusitania, so it was with empty holds that the Shadow Wolf pulled away from Trinidad Station. Cera did the piloting, as usual, with Henry, Tia, and Yanik at their stations on the bridge.

  Standing with them at her own request, Samina Khan watched her home for the past few years gradually pull away on the liquid crystal display. She wore a gray engineer's jumpsuit with Shadow Wolf on the back in black lettering. The jumpsuit was a size too big for her and quite baggy.

  But she paid it no mind. Her heart beat with excitement and fear and anxiety and worry and happiness. She couldn't decide how she should feel about leaving Uncle Ali behind, about being on her own without her family for the first time in her life. She wanted to cheer at the freedom and cry at the feeling of loss. Tears formed in her eyes from the tension.

  Henry's hand came up and touched her shoulder. "I've been there," he said. "I felt the same way when the shuttle taking me to Halsey Station left Tylerville."

  "I don't know how to feel," Samina stammered. "I—"

  "I didn't either."

  "It shows you are on your path, laid out by divine will," Yanik said in his usual low voice. "Divine will is always frightening and gratifying."

  "Inshallah," she breathed with a little uncertainty.

  Yanik nodded. Samina was surprised he understood. Then her thoughts looped back to the feelings inside. She said nothing more as Trinidad Station slowly shrank on the viewer until it was a speck.

  "You've got your first in-flight engine-room watch in six hours," Tia reminded her. "You should see about rack time."

  "Yeah. Rack time." Samina felt goose bumps at that prospect. A watch in the engine room by herself, on a ship in flight was a lot of responsibility. Even if Brigitte was also going to be around to help, she felt her stomach twist with nervousness at the thought. Her legs went a little rubbery as she turned to the exit door. "I'll be there, Miss Nguyen," Samina promised.

  She left the bridge. Walking down the corridor to her quarters, her feelings continued to shift until one stood out amongst them: determination. She had to do it correctly. For Uncle Ali, for Chief Khánh, and her new crew. She had to be the best engineer's mate she could be.

  "Allah, help me," she muttered under her breath.

  * * *

  The Kensington Star loomed ahead through the shuttle cockpit viewer. Hartford looked it over with quiet satisfaction. While it retained the boxy shape he'd seen on its capture, the week since its arrival at Pluto Base had wrought the desired changes to the ship. Particle cannons were bolted and fitted onto its boxy shape, giving it a definite warlike cast. A battery of captured Coalition neutron cannons were arrayed below the chin of the ship.

  Above the ship's bow, the emitter array for their new weapon was still being assembled, but it was nearly ready.

  Altogether, the refitted Kensington Star had the firepower to harm cruisers and the deflectors to resist them, although its hull was still a weak point. Armored plates had been rigged over vital areas, but once the ship's deflectors were down, it would have difficulty surviving.

  Not that battle was its primary purpose, although if everything went according to plan, it would see combat eventually.

  An eager young officer—a commander—greeted Hartford and Aristide upon their landing on the ship's shuttle bay. "Commander Ivan Neworth, sir," he said in a chipper North American accent. "We've nearly completed the refit, sir. There's a few final pieces to install on the disabler array. When we're done, she's ready for action."

  "Well done, Commander," Hartford said. "You and your crews have fulfilled their duty well."

  "Thank you, sir. All did their part for Society. We had not a single incident of individual failing."

  "I’ll see to it your crew will be commended."

  With the exchange done, Hartford was led on a tour of the ship. For all the work done outside, internally, it was little changed—only where necessary. The crew went about their business with the kind of Social spirit he approved of in personnel. Each had been handpicked from the best in the League of Sol fleet. Most were veterans of the war with the Coalition and eager to strike the decisive blow to break the zealots.

  They were partway through the inspection when Aristide stopped following. She held a hand to her ear, telling Hartford she was getting a report from Pluto Base. "Very well," she said. "I will inform him at once."

  By the time she turned her attention entirely to Hartford and Commander Neworth, Hartford was already asking, "Inform me of what?"

  "An informant on Trinidad Station transmitted a report to our man on New Kerala," she said. "The Shadow Wolf has departed for Lusitania."

  "Is the fleet ready?"

  She nodded. "It is dispersed along the route, and we have probes spread around several systems. Additionally, League vessels in the area, as well as those we have contacts with, are all on the lookout, should they take a circuitous route."

  "And if they go by interstellar space?"

  Aristide smiled. Hartford wasn't sure he liked the look of it. "Given their behavior, I considered that possibility. Captain Zervakos and his squadron have dispersed themselves at central points with a probe net employed. It is quite a use of resources, sir, but I believe we can catch them."

  Hartford narrowed his eyes slightly. Aristide's wording wasn't lost on him. She saw this as a waste of resources. She didn't see the danger that Miri Gaon would pose to their operation, not as he did. She was thinking of things in the way one of the bloodless Social Resource Distribution Bureau officials back on Earth would have, not realizing the effect on morale someone like Gaon could have if she gave her testimony to the right people. "It will be worth it," he quietly assured her. "And it will even give us another benefit."

  "Oh?"

  "Another ship, already conveniently armed for our purposes," Hartford pointed out. And with that point made, he nodded to Neworth, prompting the younger officer to continue their tour.

  * * *

  Pavel found Piotr as he was leaving the ship's chapel on the Morozova's habitation deck, where Father Dmitri was currently hearing confession. "Piotr, I've found them!"

  "Where?" Piotr demanded, his full attention directed to his brother.

  "They put in several days ago to Trinidad Station. Battle damage from an attack by the Tash'vakal."

  "Devil's Lizards," Piotr grumbled. They were another scourge of the spaceways, vicious reptilians who ate other species and even each other. "Are they still there?"

  "They were scheduled
to depart today," answered Pavel. "No destination filed, but during their time on the station, they received several calls from Lusitania."

  "Their cargo to Harron came from Lusitania," Piotr recalled. "Perhaps their employer is there."

  "The League External Security Office maintains a major agent in Gamavilla," Pavel said. "Chantavit Li."

  "Li," Piotr spat. "He would be the kind of man to arrange this slander." He gave his brother a fierce look. "They must be returning her to him. We must catch them!"

  "I've given Semyon course information. It will be close, brother, but with God's help, perhaps we can catch them before their last jump."

  "God stands with those seeking justice," Piotr assured him. "Make sure the word is spread. We must be ready for action when the time comes!"

  32

  Another bright day came for the people of Gamavilla. It was the kind of day anyone would want to remember—clear, sunny skies, pleasantly warm. Children of the capital's barrios loved such conditions for playing outside, while lovers embraced in the parks.

  After finishing her morning routines, Cristina Caetano stood on the balcony of her third-floor apartment home. While other ministers might dwell in beautiful homes bought in the city limits, she contented herself with a secured apartment rented in the government district. From three stories up, she could make out the best buildings in the heart of the city, including the parliament building and the presidential mansion. With a turn of her head, the grand baroque architecture of National University was visible. Turning her head the other way showed the Gamavilla Museum of History and Art and the magnificent spire of St. Michael's Cathedral, while a little farther in the distance, the al-Tawriq Mosque's minarets spoke of architecture that would have won the approval of the Almohads.

  The view was special. It was why she'd insisted upon that apartment. It reminded her of the proud past of Lusitania, the collective effort of the Portuguese, Moroccan, Basque, and Galician peoples who’d left behind the lands and bones of their forebearers to save the memory and spirit of their nations.