The Princess & The Privateer

by Peter Rhodan

  Peeking out from under the visor of her cap she smiled at him nervously as they approached, but he frowned and shook his head minutely forestalling any attempt at communication. Taking the hint, she kept her head down as the Captain who had been waiting on the ground saluted the one accompanying her.

  “Thank you Captain Jervios. We will take the visitor from here.”

  “Very good. I officially hand the subject over to you Captain Horman.”

  He saluted again and Horman returned the salute.

  Gizel was sure the fellow must have been terribly curious to find out who she was, and why she was being delivered from a battlecruiser to the Palace. The Captain had been trained to follow orders and not ask questions so he turned away without further ado, returning to his shuttle none the wiser.

  Horman signaled to Teron who opened the door and then the Captain led the Princess inside the Palace with Teron following close behind after closing and locking the door behind them. The door opened onto a corridor Gizel did not recognize but it soon linked up with one that led to the rooms of the personal servants of the Imperial Family. Gizel fondly remembered this part of the Palace from her childhood when it was territory to be explored by a child Princess and her friends. The corridor ended in a T junction, Horman turned right, and then after only a few meters, they stopped at a wall panel that looked no different to any of the others they had passed. He glanced left and right to make sure no one shared the corridor with them then pressed a code into an almost invisible keypad that glowed faintly when his hand passed over it. With a swish, the panel moved aside revealing what was in effect a hidden corridor.

  Mentally reviewing the layout of the Palace in her head, she realized that this corridor was the southern equivalent of the one in the north wing she had used as part of her secret exit from the Palace. She had simply never realized that her secret passage, which had led her close to the general servants’ quarters, had a mirror in the south wing. Interesting! With the approximate position of the corridor fixed in her head, she was not surprised when they exited via another plain panel into her family’s private part of the Palace.

  Here the corridor was paneled in fine redwood from the native forests to the north of the capital, and the floor covered in an intricately patterned carpet that muffled the sound of their passage. At the end of the corridor was a door with elaborate recessed panels in the upper and lower halves and another security panel. The Captain stopped in front of this door and turning to Gizel he bowed and smiled.

  “Welcome home, Your Highness. I will need you to enter your personal code and do a retina scan to proceed from here.”

  Gizel was surprised hearing him address her by her formal title; it was the first time she had been addressed that way since re-entering Kimerian space. She nodded with a smile for the Captain, and moved to the panel, entered her code, and then put her eye to the scanner that had popped out from the top of the unit. Calling it a retina scanner was actually a misnomer. What the device actually did was take a very high-resolution picture of the retina that was then compared to the images the system held on file. There was a momentary hesitation then a click as the door unlocked.

  Gizel turned to the two men and inclined her head.

  “Thank you, Captain.”

  She turned to the other Imperial Security man.

  “Teron. I’m glad you are okay and thank you for your bravery.” Teron blushed but said nothing.

  She turned and opened the door, lifted her chin, and marched into the room beyond. She was trying very hard to channel how she felt when she was swaggering down the ramp of Karvon’s assault shuttle in her Nordland power armor, rather than feeling like a little schoolgirl in trouble

  The door opened onto what was known in the family as the White Parlour. Once it had indeed been decorated with white painted walls, white upholstered furniture, and even white carpet, all of it done by the somewhat deranged dowager wife of Hermann the First, the third Emperor. The loss of her husband in a space battle against the People’s Republic of Ragon had affected her badly and she had ended her life confined in an institution.

  Her son, Harod the First, had thankfully been a grown man when his father died and was able to assume the throne without any problem. Shortly after ascending to the throne, he had the People’s Republic of Ragon added to the Kimerian Empire in compensation for the death of his father. The room had long since ceased to be decorated in the impossible to keep clean white, but the name of the room had somehow remained. In this generation, it had become something of a retreat room for her parents, used by them to escape her and her brother when they were young!

  Entering the room she found all her bravado and macho merc body language simply flowing down her legs and out of her boots as she saw her parents standing there, having risen from their matching single sofa chairs as she had entered. They were both still able to stand up quickly and easily despite being well into their seventies, thanks to modern genetic therapies. Whatever hard-bitten attitude she had been going to use simply dissipated into the never-never as she found herself flying across the room to hug her mother, tears rolling down her cheeks. All she could mutter as she blubbered into her mother’s chest was “Sorry, sorry... sorry.”

  Empress Julina clasped her only daughter to her chest and just held her there as they both cried themselves out. Her father watched on, a small smile on his normally impassive face until Gizel broke from her mother and turned to face him. She went to say sorry to him as well, but he simply crushed her in a hug, tears in his eyes as well and she cried into his shoulder in sheer relief and joy at finally being home.

  Chapter 15

  Year 845: New beginnings

  Midshipman, Her Imperial Highness, Gizel Desnoute tramped down the corridor of Krestar Station, duffel bag on her shoulder and two Imperial Security troopers trailing along behind her. The troopers were similarly encumbered as the party of three made their way to Berth Fourteen where the destroyer Thister was currently docked. The few other Naval personnel around simply glanced questioningly at the trio before getting on with their tasks. The Imperial Security chaps were dressed as ordinary sailors so as not to attract any undue attention.

  The station was named after a successful battle that had taken place over a hundred years ago and it had grown to be like a giant three-armed star; only the arms were not equal. Arm one contained berths one to six, which were widely spaced and contained three berths on each side of the arm. This arm was primarily for capital ships, although other ships could use it if required. Arm two contained berths seven through twenty-four and was unequally spaced. Berths seven to twelve were capable of taking cruisers and were on the starboard side, while the much more tightly spaced berths thirteen to twenty-four were located on the port side.

  These berths were designed for the smaller type ships, such as destroyers and frigates, although the Kimerian Navy had few frigates anymore. The few remaining fleet frigates were being phased out, as they were deemed too small to be worth deploying. Imperial Security was the main user of frigates in Kimerian space these days and even they had a new design they were standardizing on. The older Navy hand-me-downs that their force had been composed of were slowly being replaced with the newer model.

  The third arm of the station was both thicker and shorter, and this was where the supply and support vessels docked. It was also where major repairs or upgrades were carried out in a special ship dock that had been built there. The extra girth to the arm allowed for large, and or bulky loads, to be transshipped far more easily on the broad, high-traffic thoroughfare, rather than on the far more narrow main passageways on the other two arms of the station.

  With the long-term peace they had been enjoying and the general drawing down of the Imperial Navy, the Second Fleet would have barely filled the available berths, even if every ship had been in dock at the same time. Even in peace time the Navy continued their normal anti-piracy patrols, training programs, and show the flag duties, and as such only two capi
tal ships were docked at the moment. From the ship names on the crew's uniforms she had seen since arriving it appeared these were the battlecruiser Lagolil I and the battleship Ragon. The heavy cruiser Indomitable was in Berth Eight, where she was undergoing some sort of major repair. The hull was open for a good third of the length of the ship, and dock workers and crewmen were swarming all over her in vac suits. There was another ship in Berth Nine, but Gizel reached her destination at Berth Fourteen before she could see which ship that was.

  The Thister was one of the River class destroyers, which were nearly the only type of destroyer on the Navy List these days. Designed after the war with Iskander, and taking advantage of all the experience gained during that conflict, the River class had been a general design, series built, to replace the wide variety of older destroyers the Navy had gone into the war with. There had been a vast collection of old, new, and even foreign-built destroyers which had been taken into service after their world had succumbed to the Empire. There were even a few wartime prizes, plus a range of destroyer designs built in haste during the war. All of which meant that standardization was non-existent and the variety of designs legion. Now the twelve remaining Klerach class destroyers were the only non-River class ships on the Naval List. They were the last type built during the war and were relegated to the mothballed reserve at present, although word had spread that they would probably go to the scrapyard as well before too much longer.

  The River class came in three varieties. The initial series of ships were deemed Type A after they began building an improved version of the design twenty years after the war ended. Not surprisingly the modified design was designated Type B. Fifteen years ago the Navy had begun the systematic re-building the River class ships. Rather than going back to the drawing board and creating a whole new design, they chose to completely gut the interior of the existing design and replace nearly everything with a whole new deck plan.

  The Navy had chosen to ‘update’ the existing destroyers, as funds would allow. They thought getting the refurbishment program approved by the Government Finance Department would be less troublesome due to the relatively small ongoing annual cost. Whereas trying to get the money approved for a brand new design would have proved much more difficult due to the substantial costs involved initially. If they had pushed for a new design they would probably have finished up with funding for maybe only a third of the fleet to be comprised of the new destroyers and the rest the older, aging Type A and Type B ships.

  The rebuilt ships, whether initially the Type A, or the slightly longer and wider Type B, were all redesignated as Type C destroyers once they had undergone the rebuild. With no real international tensions at present, the rebuilding program was not being pushed through the dockyards at any great pace. In practice, it only occurred when ships needed a major overhaul or had been in a collision or some other accident that entailed major repairs. So far about half of the Type A ships and maybe a dozen of the Type B ships had been rebuilt, including the former Type A Thister.

  Rather than mooring with a boarding hatch secured to the dock, the Thister was connected to the station arm by a flexible tube for personnel transfers, which would be in null-gee. This fact would require the prospective boarder to start by navigating the tube in free fall while also being ready for gravity once they exited the tube aboard the ship. Uncoordinated landings at the far end of boarding tubes were a great source of amusement and embarrassment among the trainee midshipmen when they had been introduced to the procedure.

  Civilian ships docked with retractable solid collars with their own artificial gravity, and when docking at civilian stations warships did the same. At the military stations though, the self-sealing null-gee tubes were de-rigor, so that ships could simply pull away from the berth without warning in the event of an emergency. When seconds count the time it would take to disconnect a civilian-type boarding tunnel could make the difference between avoiding destruction or not. Gizel thought it was a silly tradition to maintain in peacetime.

  Positioned at the entry port were two sailors, a petty officer, and a rating. They were seated behind a small portable podium and their task was to take note of all arrivals and departures. Gizel strode up to the desk, saluted even though it was just a petty officer, and handed her order packet to the Chief. The salute was for the ship, the petty officer, or whoever it was who was manning the boarding station. This worthy, who looked to be fifty or more from his leathery complexion, returned the salute but avoided taking the order packet.

  “Midshipman Desnoute?” he asked politely, clearly expecting her arrival. The rating eyed the Imperial Security fellows warily.

  They might be in naval attire but they sported Imperial Security tabs, which sort of gave the game away. Gizel couldn’t actually see the point of dressing them up like sailors and then making them wear their normal Imperial Security insignia.

  “Yes Chief,” she answered, smiling calmly, despite the growing excitement within her.

  She was finally going to board her first ship! Well, her first navy ship! Her father had pulled some strings for her, which meant she was able to start the Midshipman course at the Naval College late. She had been able to make up the ground she had lost due to her little adventure by acing the year one combat tests early, thus freeing up time for her to catch up on the other subjects. After two years of training, she was finally about to board her first real warship, and she couldn’t help the warm glow she felt.

  “Welcome aboard sir. The XO is on the bridge at present and you should report to him after stowing your gear. You are in cabin U three, sir and I can have Rawlins here show you the way.”

  Gizel smiled at this. She had memorized the deck layout of the Type C River class destroyers once she had received her orders to report aboard. Unless there had been some major rebuilding she was unaware of she did not doubt her ability to find the cabin assigned to her and then report to the bridge in the middle of the forward part of the ship on C deck.

  “That’s fine Chief. I am pretty sure I can find my way about without any assistance. Rawlins can direct these two to the Marine quarters where they are to rack up, if that is all right?”

  The Chief studied her for a moment then nodded, clearly deciding he was happy to give her enough rope so to speak.

  “Rawlins show these two to Marine country and anywhere else they have a mind to go.”

  The right-hand one, Dedsun, spoke up.

  “Our gear is following and should arrive in about an hour. If you could let us know when that happens Chief, we will come and get it.”

  The Chief nodded again. “Certainly gentlemen. Rawlins, report back here after you have shown these two around the ship.”

  “Aye aye Chief.” The sailor said brightly then motioned the two Security men to follow him through the tube.

  Being Imperial Security, they traversed the tube with the easy competence Imperial Security men seemed to show with just about everything they did. Gizel had a suspicion there were specially trained Imperial Security spacer troops like these two, and others, who were specialist downsiders. Still, the best of the best, Gizel considered Baron Travgar’s often quoted phrase as she hefted her duffel onto her shoulder, and nodded to the Chief before heading aboard her first ship.

  After waiting for the others to clear the landing area, she attached her duffel to the inbound guide wire and sent it towards the ship she grabbed the handholds on the outer edge of the boarding tube. After taking a deep breath, she launched herself down the tube in the proscribed manner, having first made sure no one was coming the other way. Inbound crew had priority, but in non-emergency situations, the polite thing was to look down the tube and give way to anyone there first.

  Halfway down the tube she rotated her body and eschewing the handles, which were designed for people to grab onto and halt their progress before exiting the tube into the gravity field of the ship. Using the method of experienced sailors she simply arced out and down and hoped she landed on her feet, gymnast
style. Fortunately, she achieved this without mishap and carefully did not react when she noticed a couple of the crewmen watching her arrival. Treat the whole thing as normal she instructed herself, and after retrieving her duffel she headed for B deck without even obviously glancing at the crewmen. Just like a real officer, she thought to herself, reflecting that the repeated training runs for doing this at the Academy had proved useful after all.

  Her cabin was a typical junior officer’s rectangular cubicle, thankfully not up against the inner hull, with two bunks arranged vertically on one side, a small desk and chair plus two cabinets on the other, and a door that led to a shower and toilet facility which was clearly shared by another cabin. The upper bunk was made in a slightly sloppier manner than the lower one was made in a manner that looked like it was straight out of boot camp bunk making 101 and she assumed it was to be hers.

  The left most cabinet was locked, but the right one opened at her touch of the panel to reveal a small vertical space for hanging dress uniforms and a suite of drawers for utility overalls, underwear, and other personal items. After quickly unpacking she armed the security with her thumbprint and headed for the bridge still wondering if her bunkmate was a male or female. The navy policy was for single-sex cabins where possible, but apparently, the operative word was possible. If there were an odd number of female officers she could be easily paired with a male officer, which would be an interesting experience.

  She had elected to remain in her working uniform and she found the similarly attired XO on the bridge without trouble. She marched up and saluted with a careful snappiness.

  “Midshipman Desnoute reporting for duty, sir!”

  She had reviewed all the officers aboard the Thister, taking advantage of the Imperial Security files during the trip out here, so she knew the XO was Lieutenant Dominic Halfron. Halfron was a cousin of the Duke of Lovell from the planet Faldorn. The city of Lovell happened to be on the river Thister, the ship’s namesake, which was an interesting coincidence. Halfron eyed her up and down and raised his right eyebrow, an action she had read of in novels but had never actually seen anyone perform in real life before.