by Peter Rhodan
Deltron closed his eyes and put his hand on his forehead and squeezed it before looking back at Halfron.
“How good is Bone?”
Halfron shrugged non-committedly.
“He’s a typical petty bully. Can throw his weight around in a bar, or amongst the Naval ratings, but lacks the science to beat a Marine.” he paused. “Probably nowhere near as fit as the Princess either. She works out like a Marine, you know?”
The Captain nodded. “Yeah. I’ve watched on the monitors once or twice.”
Halfron nodded in reply. “Dockson is very impressed with both her skills and her attitude, by the way.”
Deltron sighed. “Well, we had to have a problem sooner or later. You’ve noted his attitude towards her before. Any idea on the reason he dislikes her so much?”
“No.” Halfron paused. “I have even had some subtle words with a couple of the other Chiefs, but no one seems to know anything or even suspects anything, at least not that they’re willing to share. I have to add that some of the crew are also aware of the antagonism between the two of them. According to the Chiefs, I spoke to everyone seems to be on the side of the Princess. There could be a problem if he flattens her.”
“Damn. All right. It’s a bit late to intervene now, but have a word to Dockson. I want him and his men to make sure there is no ‘accident’ during the match, just in case Bone’s antagonism is not just personal.”
This brought a frown from the XO.
“That’s being a bit paranoid. Isn’t it?” His Captain just looked at him steadily for a few moments.
“Shit. So, I need to appraise her bodyguards?”
Deltron shrugged. “They should already be on top of it, but probably best to do so anyway so they know that we know. We must hope that this is nothing more than a severe case of a personality conflict which does happen from time to time as you well know.”
Halfron nodded, remembering a certain Ensign that he simply had not been able to get along with as a Lieutenant and which had led to a reprimand in his file, which Deltron had asked him about. They discussed a few other ship-related matters and the meeting ended with both men left feeling that the whole matter was unsatisfactory.
Dockson spent some time giving Gizel advice on Bone’s fighting style. He didn’t think Bone had done any formal training apart from his military service training. He usually relied on his ability to absorb minor hits from his opponents and then dish out major pain from the occasional extremely heavy blow he would get in. One hit to the head from Bone would normally render most opponents fairly woozy, while a stomach hit would often take out an opponent’s wind, either one leaving the opponent vulnerable to a quick finish of the fight by Bone. He had a reputation as a bar-room brawler, although Dockson had never actually seen him in a fight ashore. Above all, she had to avoid being grappled by the much larger, heavier, and stronger Bone.
Bone appeared in the Marines gym dressed in the regulation t-shirt and shorts, his muscular chest and arms being nicely displayed. Gizel also noted the somewhat less than impressive stomach bulge, which implied a certain lack of cardiovascular fitness. She considered her plan to run him around and decided that the chances of her success had improved a bit seeing him stripped down so to speak. Her two bodyguards were very reluctant spectators and were clearly still trying to catch her eye and argue with her some more about the inadvisability of this course of action, but she ignored them, concentrating on her opponent and her own preparations.
Some limbering up exercises and they were ready. Bosun Moore was the referee and after the usual instructions signaled them to fight. Bone moved forward cautiously but was unprepared for the sudden attack Gizel launched with a flurry of punches and kicks. These were designed to get his arms out of position, and in the process of defending himself, the attack culminated in a really hard kick to the solar plexus. She didn’t manage to knock the wind out of him, but he certainly felt it, she danced back and proceeded to avoid any further close combat for a few seconds, letting him get frustrated. She took a few licks on her upper arms, shoulders, and legs as she dodged, deflected, and avoided the attempted heavy blows from Bone, but he was unable to land a serious blow, which caused him some obvious frustration.
Then without warning, she went over to attack mode again, firing punches and kicks in rapid succession. She had been sure she was faster than him and she again used her speed to get him out of position and managed to get a good, solid whack in the same solar plexus region. This time, instead of backing off, she dodged around behind, catching him off balance, and caught the back of his left knee with a good kick that buckled his leg. Rather than stay in close and risk being grappled she bounced back for a second and was glad to see he had trouble with his left leg. Besides breathing rather heavily.
She returned to dancing around him, making him turn on his left leg as much as possible and attacking often enough to keep him guessing and off-balance. Then she saw another opportunity, shaped to deliver a kick to his solar plexus area again then as he reacted, instead she stepped in and to the right and caught his left knee again, from the side this time and he went down clutching it. She carefully stepped back out of the way as referee Moore was joined by the ship’s doctor to attend to the injured Petty Officer. She was pretty sure she had done either medial and or anterior cruciate ligament damage to his left knee, both of which would lay him up for at least a few weeks, longer if it was anterior damage.
Dockson appeared at her shoulder. “That was dirty.”
She caught a towel tossed to her by one of the Marines and felt her bodyguards closing up behind her.
“I don’t know why people expect me to fight like a princess just because I am one,” she said quietly. “One of the trainers I had before the Academy was an ex-Iskander Marine Sergeant who spent five years as an instructor at their Academy. He taught me a lot about beating men, especially ones who are a lot bigger and stronger than me.” she paused, and looked over at Bone who was still in the hands of the doctor. “Besides. I could not decide if he was just an obnoxious idiot or a plant. Either way, he won’t be causing me any more trouble during the rest of this operation.”
She nodded to Dockson who now had a rather surprised look on his face and she headed for the showers.
He had been surprised and concerned by her willingness to fight Bone, and had assumed it was just a case of youthful overconfidence, even if she was better trained. Watching the clinical way she had demolished the large man had made him realize that although she was a nice person, very egalitarian in attitude for a Princess, she hid a fighter’s instinct underneath her pleasant demeanor. And where the hell had she trained with an ex-Iskander marine?
Chapter 17
Home Front blues
Lieutenant Johan Lomar saw the red-tagged note from Lieutenant Krimmins and scowled at it wondering why Krimmins had forwarded it marked urgent. So, the ship the Princess had been assigned to had left port. Well yes, all ships do that sooner or later, it's what ships are supposed to do. What was so urgent about that. Wait, what? The Thister, but the Thister had to be a destroyer! The Princess was supposed to be on a battlecruiser! What, the hell! He pushed the emergency button to warn his boss, jumped up from his chair, and strode through the door as it slid open to where Baron Travgar was looking at him expectedly, waiting for whatever bombshell piece of news his aide was about to detonate.
“It’s the Princess again, sir!” he announced dramatically as he entered the room.
Travgar raised an eyebrow although he waited calmly for his aide to enlighten him.
“Krimmins just sent this through. She has left Krestar Station for her first cruise all right. On board the Thister! That’s a destroyer, sir!”
Lomar emphasized these two points dramatically, waving his hand upwards as if indicating the Imperial fleet base in orbit, or something in space anyway.
Travgar looked blank for a second, then twitched into a more alarmed mode.
“What! She was supposed to
be on Lagolil the First not some destroyer. Are you sure?”
Lomar shook his head negatively.
“No, sir, but Lieutenant Krimmins would not make a mistake about the ship she was assigned to, sir. I will double-check immediately.”
Travgar frowned. “Do that Johan. Quick as you can. I do not like the feel of this!”
He remembered the debacle two years ago with no fondness whatsoever. Their Majesties are not going to be impressed. Again.
“Sir!” The young Lieutenant saluted and fled from the room.
Travgar watched him depart, thankful that he didn’t have to put up with one of the fashionable sprigs of the nobility as an aide like most senior commanders did. Lomar was sharp, dedicated, and meticulous. He had served Travgar for nearly two years now and had done a superb job. It was a pity, in a way, as his competence meant that he would have to be promoted soon and Travgar would then need to break in a new aide.
Less than half an hour later the Lieutenant buzzed Travgar with an update.
“Yes, Johan?” he responded.
“I have double-checked with Lieutenant Krimmins and he showed me both the full arrival note her guards sent when they reached Krestar Station, and this more recent one, and they both name the vessel as the Thister. I have also checked with Naval Personnel and they have her recorded as having been assigned to Lagolil the First, which is currently still docked at Krestar Station. There something very fishy here, sir.”
Travgar leaned back in his chair and considered. Damn. They never had found whoever it was behind the assault on the Princess at the Starfire concert. He leaned forward.
“Johan. Those guards should have had orders for the Lagolil the First not for the Thister yet they said nothing, so it means that either someone changed their orders as well, or they are in on it. I want you to call, no, I want you to go and see Captain Jervios. I want him to investigate everybody in the ImpSec chain involved in those guard’s orders. Starting with Krimmins. Tell him to grab a squad from the tactical response force to use as guards. And tell him to do this as quietly as he can. You understand Johan?”
“Yes, sir. You want to try and nab whoever is involved in this as quietly as possible, sir. I will wander down to Captain Jervios’ office as if on a social call now, sir.”
Lomar really was a very sharp lad.
“Good man,” Travgar said.
Damn. Internal investigations were always the worst. He looked up Admiral Gording’s direct number and called him.
“Hogart. What can I do for you today?” came the man’s voice.
They had a long relationship of mutual respect, thankfully!
“I would like to meet for lunch, can you fit that in?” Travgar asked casually.
The phrase ‘can you fit that in’ was a private code that indicated urgency. Gording raised his eyebrows but then nodded.
“Hmm. Let me see. Can I get back to you in few minutes?”
“Certainly Admiral. Take your time.”
The Admiral disappeared off the screen with another nod. They had kept in closer touch since the business with the Princess two years earlier.
Travgar sat staring at the wall for maybe five minutes trying to come up with some brilliant insight into what was happening and why, but found nothing. Prince Lucas was the obvious target for this sort of thing, thankfully so far there had only ever been one incident with the Prince, and that had been a lone crackpot, not a serious plot. That was what this appeared to be at first sight, but it still begged the question of why did whoever was behind all this keep going after Gizel? Presuming this was indeed the same person or group or whatever, of course. The inside reach needed to change her naval orders was very suggestive that he was facing the same opponent who had been able to get tracking bugs into the Palace a little over two years ago.
His comm buzzed interrupting his ruminations and he picked it up.
“Would one thirty be okay old chap?”
The Admiral’s fake cheery voice came over the comm attached to a bright false smile.
The Baron nodded. “Certainly. No problem at all. Where?”
“I was thinking the Pelican’s Wake. On Fallow Street. Do you know it?” the Admiral asked.
“Why yes, I do. Excellent choice. I shall see you at one thirty Admiral.”
“Baron.” the Admiral nodded and cut the connection.
Lieutenant Lomar organized a car and driver for his boss and added an overflight by an ImpSec Combat aircar to act as support, he insisted on accompanying the Baron himself and included an extra guard to join the driver for good measure. Travgar thought he was being overly paranoid, he didn’t want to tip off anyone that might be watching that they had already realized there was something amiss. He and Admiral Gording had lunch or dinner once every other month or so anyway, so their meeting should not attract undue attention. Or so he hoped.
The restaurant was an old-style one, tucked in beside the entrance to a large, if older, residential block just off the ‘in’ part of town. Why it was called the Pelican’s Wake he had never understood. The Pelican was one of a large number of the Earth birds that hadn’t been included in the embryo collection of Doctor Stimson, the biologist aboard the Gravesend. The restaurant’s façade was made of real wood and the place was supposed to resemble a historical harbor store from old Earth. It had a large carved wooden Pelican seemingly perched on the lintel of the door. Travgar had never bothered to find out how accurate the reproduction was, but he could not deny the restaurant was one of the better-known landmarks in the city proper.
Gording arrived a good five minutes after Travgar and joined him with his aide at the table near the rear of the restaurant in a corner position that did not allow for close eavesdropping. Travgar produced a sound distorter anyway, which would disrupt any directional microphones that may be focused on them. After they had quickly scanned the menu and ordered their meals, he wasted no time in coming to the point.
“According to Naval Personnel, Princess Gizel was assigned to the Lagolil the First, a battlecruiser in the Second Fleet, currently based at Krestar Station.”
Gording considered this, turned to his aide who brought up his pad, and quickly found the appropriate information.
“Yes sir,” he offered to Travgar and nodded to the Admiral to show him the information was correct.
“Yes, well the problem with that is that your computer is wrong.”
Gording went to say something but Travgar forestalled him with a raised hand.
“Princess Gizel, and her ImpSec guards, I have to add, all joined the INS Thister and sailed from Krestar Station a week ago. The Thister is a destroyer I understand?”
He tried not to sound too querulous.
The Admiral’s aide went to work on his pad while Gording looked askance at Travgar.
“What?” His surprise seemed genuine. “This is confirmed?”
Travgar nodded.
“Yes. Her guards filed a routine report to say that they had reached Krestar Station; another that they had boarded the ship the Princess was assigned to, naming it as the Thister, as if there was no problem. Unfortunately, no one here realized the importance of the ship’s name at that point. Then this morning we received their routine report to say the ship had sailed for wherever its patrol route is. The Imperial Security supervisor that they report to only realized there was a problem this morning when he happened to check the ship’s name for no real reason, and discovered it was not the ship she was supposed to be on. Hence our hastily arranged meeting.”
He waved his hand to indicate their lunch rendezvous.
“Damn. And your immediate thought is that business at Starfire, yes?” The Admiral flicked his wrist, waving his knife around.
“Yes. There are a lot of very real problems here. One. The orders for her guards were somehow also changed to match hers. I have one of my top men beginning an internal investigation into how that could have happened. Two. The naval orders of where to report for duty were changed not
just for her, but for her Imperial Security guards as well, the only thing that remained the same was the Station. Your records here still show her as being assigned to the Lagolil the First, so that means the change occurred somewhere between the Personnel office and her boarding the Thister. What is the procedure you have in place please?”
Admiral Gording took a moment to recall the procedure that would have been followed with orders for the Princess.
“In the case of the Princess, the assignment is made by me personally, in close consultation with the Palace. The orders would be passed to Personnel and they would then transmit the individual orders directly to the Princess, Admiral Klugar’s office at Krestar Station, and the ship’s captain. A copy would be sent to your office and your people would then notify the Admiralty of the number of men assigned to guard the Princess and they would be added to the movement orders.”
He paused and appeared to be considering what he had just said.
Travgar turned to his aide. “Do we have the original orders?”
Lomar pulled up his pad and ran through a few screens.
“Ah. Oh well, right. Sir! The orders we have were for the Thister, which means the change had to have been made in the office of Naval Personnel.”
“Damn!” said Gording. “Although that at least means that Admiral Klugar and the people in the Second Fleet are clean. You will want your people to investigate, yes?”
“Oh yes. I am afraid we will need complete access, and it would best if we do this suddenly so the guilty do not have time to flee.” Travgar tapped the table with his finger several times as he spoke, emphasizing each point. “And we have to get word out to the Second Fleet as soon as possible. This must be some sort of setup. I want the biggest but fastest ships you have out there underway as soon as we can get word sent.”
