“Why…thank you, sir. That’s very generous. I’ll be sure the staff that handles this knows the full terms of your order.”
Cole smiled. “I’m not so worried about the credit. I just want them to know their hard work is appreciated.”
“We will certainly do that, sir. How should we notify you when the delivery is en route?”
“You can contact me through the ship. I have errands to run and maintenance to do, so I don’t know where I’ll be when you call.”
“Of course, sir…and once again, thank you for calling O’Shaughnessy’s.”
The speakers chirped to signal the call ended.
Cole looked at Sasha. “Once the caterers have delivered the food, set up the buffet, and left, then you’re welcome to send out the invitations to the party. I don’t want anyone watching your family to see a large catering order heading for this ship at the same time your family is here and get ideas.”
Sev nodded. “I applaud your forethought, Cole.”
“I’ve spent the last several years working with the types of people who’ll be hunting Sasha and Talia. I know how they think.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Once Sasha, Talia, Sev, and Emily were set up in one of the larger spaces on the recreation deck, Cole went to the bridge and spoke with the officer of the deck to handle the catering delivery from O’Shaughnessy’s and all the people who’d be coming aboard to visit Sasha and Talia. After that was sorted, Cole asked to speak with Yeleth in his office.
Cole entered the outer office and stopped cold. Akyra Tomar sat at the yeoman’s desk, and she wore the generic ship-suit everyone had adopted as a kind of uniform of the day.
“Hi,” Cole said.
“Hello, sir,” Akyra replied.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here,” Cole admitted. “Have I forgotten an appointment?”
Akyra shook her head. “Purser Yeleth assigned me as your yeoman, Captain.”
Cole blinked. “She did? When did that happen? And I didn’t realize I needed a yeoman.”
“Considering I’m still learning what it means to be a yeoman, I’m not certain I’m prepared to say whether or not you need one, sir…but this is the best assignment for me.”
That admission set Cole back, but as he further considered it, he couldn’t help but shrug. “Well, considering I’m captain with no formal credentials to back it up, I can’t say much.”
“Sir, you own one of the largest starships I’ve ever seen, and you’re the Lone Marine. Those are credentials enough right there.”
Cole smiled. “Everything else going well?”
Akyra assumed a non-expression as she nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Concern filled Cole’s mind at Akyra’s reaction, but as he was still feeling out his role as captain and his command style (every book he was reading said each captain had a different command style), Cole wasn’t certain how far to go. In the end, he maintained eye contact as he said, “Akyra, I want to be sure you understand you can talk with me about anything. If you’re having problems…if you’re concerned someone from your old life is after you…anything…you’re welcome to talk to me. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to help, but at the same time, I can’t guarantee I won’t be able to help, either.”
Akyra offered Cole a weak smile. “Thank you, sir. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Oh, hey…have you been to the ISA and the bank and all that? Yeleth will need your bank account information for payday.”
Akyra dropped her eyes from Cole as she shook her head. “No, sir. I haven’t left the ship.”
Just then, the hatch irised open, allowing Yeleth to enter. She said, “Greetings, Captain and Akyra. You asked to see me, Captain?”
“Yes,” Cole said. “I wanted to discuss selling the slug-throwers we pulled out of the armory in Iota Ceti and a couple other matters.”
“Forgive me for interrupting,” Srexx said over the speakers, “but may I ask you not to sell any unwanted items you have, Cole?”
“Sure, Srexx. Why?”
“If you recall, I mentioned that the recyclers can break down almost anything at the atomic level and re-form it into materials needed for the fabricators. Those slug-throwers and their ammunition would be excellent feedstock to produce our missing shield emitters, missing turrets, or projectile weapons.”
Cole nodded. “I can see that. So, when you say the recyclers can break down almost anything, what is almost anything?”
“To begin, you need to know that the recyclers’ input hopper can only accept items or material up to a size of two meters by two meters. Aside from that, there is little the recyclers cannot process. Collapsed-atom materials—such as neutronium—require more processing time than standard alloys or elements, but processing them is not impossible.”
“Okay,” Cole said, “so the recyclers can work with ore or rock or dirt or whatever?”
“Yes, Cole.”
Cole nodded. “Thank you for your interruption, Srexx.” Cole turned to Yeleth. “Okay, new plan…put out an advertisement. We will pay full market rates for unprocessed ore that’s been rejected for whatever reason, regolith, whatever people want to throw in the bin…as long it’s less than two meters by two meters. Oh, have you and Sasha worked up the table of organization for the ship’s complement yet?”
“Yes,” Yeleth replied. “We finished it before arriving in Tristan’s Gate.”
“Okay. Let’s go organize a recruiting fair at the ISA. Akyra? You’re with us.”
The passage of a couple hours saw the establishment of a recruitment advertisement at the ISA offices for 4,181 crew positions (many requiring only an ISA record and a successful interview for hiring), the creation of an ISA record for Akyra plus a bank account, and a public advertisement on StationNet that the Battle-Carrier Haven (Docking Slip 12, The Gate) would pay market rates for any unwanted ore, rock, or regolith delivered by the thousand-kilogram bin minus the mass of the bin, with any deliveries less than one thousand kilograms being pro-rated to the mass of the delivery.
Before the day was out, Yeleth asked Cole if she could borrow his yeoman to assist her with all the scheduling and administrative duties surrounding the recruitment drive and incoming deliveries.
Cole set crews to the fabricators as raw material streamed in to begin the manufacture of the missing turrets and shield emitters. The recyclers were tied to the fabricators by a method Cole couldn’t see and—after asking Srexx and listening to the AI’s reply—nodded once saying, “Right…it’s magic,” and went on with his day.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Tristan’s Gate Shipyard
Tristan’s Gate System
18 August 2999
Julianna Painter’s heart ached. She stood outside the office where she’d received the engineering report on her family ship, Beauchamp. There was a long list, but the last line item said it all: “Spine cracked – Inadvisable to Attempt Repair.” The ship where she’d spent her childhood—where her father had spent his childhood—was dead. It was all she had in the universe, and she didn’t know what she would do next. She put her hands in her ship-suit’s pockets with a sigh and found two items: the folded business card Cole had given her and the message chip she’d promised an old friend to deliver in Tristan’s Gate. She pulled the message chip from her pocket and looked at it in her palm. She knew what she’d do next, after all.
Julianna walked down the corridor that was supposed to deliver her to Emily Vance’s office. She’d been surprised when her directory search had shown that Emily Vance worked at the Tristan’s Gate Shipyard. A quick visit to the reception area’s Directory kiosks sent her off down a corridor that led to the Sales Department. In short order, she found a hatch that had ‘Emily Vance’ on a nameplate to the right. She was confused at the lack of a control panel for a hatch chime, and as she approached, the hatch opened, pivoting on its top-right corner and withdrawing into the bulkhead.
Julianna stood in the hatchway, looking int
o the office with her surprise clear in her expression. Two people occupied the office: a dark-haired woman about Julianna’s age and an older, middle-aged man. They both looked at her.
“I am so sorry,” Julianna said. “I was looking for the hatch chime, and it opened on me.”
The woman smiled. “It’s fine. We only use hatch chimes on conference rooms where secure client discussions may be occurring. Can we help you with something?”
Julianna nodded. “I hope so. My name is Julianna Painter, and I’m supposed to deliver this message chip to Emily Vance.”
“I’m Emily,” the blond-haired woman said. “Please, come in.”
Julianna stepped far enough into the office to permit the hatch to close
“This is my father, Sevrin,” Emily said. “May I ask you who gave you the message chip?”
“An old friend who saved me in Emerald one time,” Julianna said. “I’m paying him back. His name is Harlon Hanson.”
Emily’s face fell. “Harlon sent you with a message chip? Where is he?”
“He was on Oriolis three weeks ago,” Julianna said, holding out her hand with the message chip.
“Do you know what’s on here?” Emily asked.
Painter nodded. “Not the second-by-second contents, but in general, yes. We talked a bit when he gave it to me.”
Emily took the chip and slid it into the data reader on her workstation. A window appeared in her workstation’s holographic display showing an image of Harlon Hanson, his face smeared with dirt and more, and his voice broadcast over the office’s speakers.
“Emmy, I’m in trouble. This job was not what it was advertised as being, and it’s been a colossal pooch-screw from the start. It’s late in the day on the twenty-seventh of July, and I don’t know how much longer we’ll hold out. The regiment I brought in here has already been whittled down to battalion strength, and the way things are going it’ll be a company before too long. I’m sending this with a freighter rat I’ve known for years; she’s good people, Em, and I’m hoping she makes it out of the Commonwealth with her hide intact. I wanted the family to know what happened. I’d come home if I could. I’m sorry, Em. I’ll miss you.”
Julianna’s right hand flew to her gaping mouth as she watched the color drain out of Emily. Mr. Vance’s expression was grim.
“Jeb will be nine kinds of livid when he hears about this,” Sev said. “Harlon’s one of his favorite grandchildren.”
“What do I do, Dad?” Emily whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “What…how can I help him?
Julianna put her hands back in her pockets, not knowing what else to do with them, and her left hand brushed against the folded business card. Her eyes widened, and she withdrew the folded card from her pocket.
“I…I may know someone who can help,” Julianna said, extending the folded business card toward Emily.
“Who?” Emily asked, accepting the folded card.
Emily unfolded the card where both she and her father could see it, and Julianna watched Sev’s eyes widen.
“That can’t be right. No one—and I mean no one—has an Omega-class comms code anymore.”
Emily turned her head toward her father, asking, “Why? What’s so special about Omega comms codes?”
“Only the Colesons had Omega comms codes, honey…as in Coleson Interstellar Engineering,” Sev said before shifting his eyes to Julianna. “Who gave you this?”
“Haven’s captain,” Julianna said, her own eyes a little wide. “He told me not to look at it until later.”
Emily and Sev looked at each other, both frowning.
“Cole?” Emily asked. “He didn’t seem like a multi-trillionaire.”
“Really? He didn’t bat an eye at the catering bill for our family get-together,” Sev countered.
“Well…there’s one way to find out,” Julianna said. She pulled her ear bud from a zipper pocket on the upper-left sleeve of her ship-suit and activated it, hearing a beep when it connected to her implant. She took the card back from Emily and placed a call to the comms code on the card.
“Hello,” Julianna heard Cole speak through the ear bud in her right ear. “I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize this comms code, and you’re not in my personal directory.”
“This is Julianna Painter, Captain. I’m with someone who could use your help.”
“When can you bring them aboard?” Julianna heard Cole ask.
Cole stood at the airlock as Julianna Painter led two people he was not at all expecting aboard Haven. What were Sev and Emily Vance doing with Painter? And why was Emily fighting not to cry?
“Captain Painter,” Cole said, extending his hand.
Julianna shook her head. “Not a captain, sir, not anymore. Beauchamp’s spine is cracked; the shipyard’s people told me it’s inadvisable to attempt repairing her.”
Cole took a deep breath and exhaled as a heavy sigh. “That is…I offer my sympathies; I know what she meant to you. I would ask that you not make any irrevocable decisions until you and I talk. Sev…Emily…how can I help you?”
“I want to hire you and your people, Cole,” Emily said. “I don’t care what it costs. I don’t care what you demand. Please…I need your help.”
Cole allowed himself a small smile. “I don’t think Sasha would ever forgive me if I took your money. Let’s go to the briefing room on Deck Three, and you can explain what you need. Srexx?”
“Yes, Cole?” the AI asked via the speakers overhead.
“Could you ask Sasha and Talia to meet us in the bridge’s briefing room, please? And communicate that they shouldn’t dawdle.”
“Of course, Cole.”
Cole, Emily, Sev, and Julianna had just entered the briefing room when Sasha and Talia entered behind them. Sasha took one look at Emily’s and Sev’s somber expressions, and the color drained from her face.
“Emily? Sev? What is it? Are Grandpa and Grandma—”
“They’re fine, Soosh,” Emily said. “Harlon…he…he sent me a goodbye message.”
At first, Sasha frowned, as she processed what Emily said. Saying goodbye wasn’t anything big; everyone sent…her eyes widened as she connected the dots. Most military personnel had a pre-recorded message to be delivered to a specific loved one or family member in the event the person wouldn’t be coming home; they called it the ‘goodbye message.’
Sasha was at Emily’s side almost faster than anyone could follow, and she pulled her older cousin into a tight embrace. She knew Emily and Harlon had had something of an on-again-off-again romance for several years, and she knew Emily considered Harlon to be the man she wanted.
“Oh, Em…I’m so sorry,” Sasha said, pulling Emily into a tight embrace. “When did it happen?”
“I don’t know he’s dead yet…not for certain,” Emily countered. “That’s why I need Cole’s help. He took a job on Oriolis that went south, and he might still be alive there but unable to find a way off-planet.”
Cole pushed past everyone to reach the captain’s seat at the briefing table, where a control panel was inset into the table’s surface. One control was a direct comms link to the bridge. He tapped that control as soon as he could reach it.
“Bridge, Officer of the Deck Mazzi speaking,” Mazzi’s voice broadcast over the briefing room speakers.
“Mazzi, this is Cole. Issue a recall order for all personnel. We will depart the system within five days, and anyone not aboard will receive an employment-termination notice and a severance package. Also, I need you and Yeleth in the bridge’s briefing room soonest.”
“Aye, sir,” Mazzi said. “Will there be anything else?”
“Yes,” Cole said, “but not until you’re in here.”
“Bridge out.”
Cole pulled his seat out from the table and sat, saying, “Let’s sit, people. We have a mission to plan. Haven?”
“Yes, Cole-Captain?”
Everyone present—except Cole—smothered sounds of amusement, despite the grave reason th
ey had gathered.
Cole sighed. “Access the navigation database, please, and display an area centered on the space bracketed by Tristan’s Gate, Zurich, and the Aurelian system Oriolis.”
The holographic display re-activated, displaying the requested portion of the ‘local’ space.
“Haven,” Cole said, “what’s the distance to Oriolis from Tristan’s Gate?”
“The navigational database specifies a distance of seventy-two light years, Cole-Captain.”
“What’s our transit time at eighty-percent power?”
“Ten days, twenty-two hours, and sixteen minutes.”
Cole scratched his chin for a moment and asked, “How about one-hundred-percent power?”
“One day, eleven hours, and eight minutes.”
Motion drew Cole’s attention, and he saw Emily and Sev leaning back in their seats, their eyes wide.
“Haven, set Oriolis as our destination, but do not initiate undocking procedures yet.”
“Yes, Cole-Captain.”
The briefing room hatch irised open, and Yeleth entered with Mazzi close behind.
“My apologies for interrupting whatever you were doing,” Cole said. “We have something of a time-sensitive situation. Please, have a seat.”
Emily extended a message chip to Cole with her left hand. Cole accepted it.
“Haven,” Cole asked, “do we have a way to read this message chip?”
“Yes, Cole-Captain. Internal sensors have already scanned the chip and read the stored data into memory. Do you wish it displayed?”
“Yes, please.”
Emily, Julianna, and Sev sat through the message in silence while Cole, Sasha, Talia, Mazzi, and Yeleth watched it for the first time. At the end, Mazzi turned to Cole.
“Captain,” Mazzi said, “you need to contact the shipyard right now and ask them how quickly they can provide us with three Hawk-class dropships. They carry two-hundred-fifty troops with full kit.”
It Ain't Over Page 29
