After a couple of "frak off" and "stow it dickhead" responses from Tabby, the crowd around us thinned out. Tabby had decided celebrity wasn't something she was interested in. I gave a couple of apologetic shrugs to some of the more offended, but I really didn't care.
Tabby grabbed my arm to help me through the crowd, but a short bark from me stopped her in her tracks. She settled for clearing a path back to the table where Nick and Mutt were sitting. It took us nearly ten minutes to get beer ordered.
"How did team Paradox Blue do? Didn't you play M-Cor One today?" Mutt had been pretty quiet since I arrived.
Mutt shifted his gaze uncomfortably from Nick to me. He knew our team, Loose Nuts, had been originally slated to play M-Cor One. Since we had to forfeit, Mutt's team took our place.
"They creamed us forty two ta twelve." Mutt hung his head.
"I watched. You guys hung in there solid in the beginning. It was the second half where you got beat down," Tabby offered analytically.
"Yeah, it was like they knew everything we were going to do before we did it. Solid team to be sure. I bet they play in the Central Core League back on Mars," Mutt said. The Central Core was a league that included the best teams from Mars, Earth’s Moon and Earth.
"Yup, they do. Play under the name Red Monkeys," Nick said. "They are ranked pretty low, but that is in the semi-pro division of the Central Core league."
"Man, I would like to have had a shot at them," Tabby said without thinking, immediately regretting it. "Shite. Sorry Liam."
Both Nick and Mutt looked away uncomfortably.
"Knock it off Tabby. It is what it is. I would have loved taking a shot at them, too, but don't go getting all soft on me."
Nobody said anything for a few minutes. We didn't know what to do with awkward. I couldn't stand the silence, so I forged ahead.
"Look guys. I get enough of that sorry crap from everyone else. Does it suck that I lost my foot? Yes. Do I feel bad? Yes. Do I want to break down and give up sometimes? Yes. You know what I can't handle the most? Pity. So deal with it and move on. That's what I gotta do. You too."
Yeah, that was me, bringing the awkward. I let it sit there for a few and then decided to try a different tack.
"Tabs, when do you report to the ship?"
She seemed relieved to find familiar ground and looked down at a small display on the back of her forearm before replying. "2200 hours. I report an hour before burn."
"How much mass are you taking?" I was curious about how this worked.
"All in, I am allowed seventy kilos, which leaves me thirteen kilos after counting this svelte form. It's pretty much me, a case of clothing and some trade goods. Every kilo counts, so I will end up buying just about everything when I get there. I won't even be able to take my AGBs along, they’re too heavy."
Nick piped up, "How long before the first semester starts?"
"Actually, I'll be two weeks late if M-Cor is on schedule. The Academy at Coolidge makes exceptions for spacers," Tabby explained.
"Any idea what Coolidge is like?" Mutt asked. It was a question we all had. None of us had ever experienced a real city.
"Beats the hell out of me. All I know is they have atmosphere over the entire planet. That’s something I want to see." Tabby said. I agreed, it was such an odd idea that a person could walk outside and still have atmosphere.
"What's the gravity like?" I asked.
Nick piped up. "It is naturally .38, but most of the cities run generators to bump that up to .75."
We all knew about the problems people had with long term exposure to low gravity. In fact, none of us would find Earth to be comfortable given the normal .6 gravity we had grown up with. Apparently, a spacer could adjust over time, but that period was painful.
"They say you can't really tell the difference between .6 and .75 gravity," Mutt said.
It was well into morning when the crowd in the Gravel Pit finally thinned down to a handful. Tabby and I were sitting next to each other on a bench against the wall and Nick was draped over a chair. Mutt had long since given up on us, citing that he had a long day of work ahead of him.
At some point I'd reached over and taken Tabby's hand. I didn't want to make anything weird, but I was sad to think of her leaving and it felt natural. Instead of pulling away and making a sharp comment, she slid down a bit into the bench and laid her head against me. I knew it was short-lived, but I welcomed the warm feeling.
The Gravel Pit was a twenty-four hour operation and the manager didn't mind us taking up residence as long as we weren't sleeping. At 0200, we switched to stim drinks and water.
"How about we meet up at 1800 at the refinery to see you off. I'm exhausted and can get four hours of sleep in if I head out now." Nick was barely holding his head up.
"Yeah, works for me. Want to walk him back, Tabs?" I said.
Tabby kept hold of my hand and I used her to maintain my balance as I maneuvered around a few tables. If she noticed, she sure didn’t let on. We walked back to Nick’s apartment, then Tabby and I watched the door close behind him. Without any warning at all, Tabby grabbed the sides of my face and pulled me in. It caused me to stumble a little, but she wasn't to be dissuaded. If it was awkward, I wasn't going to say anything. Her lips met my own and I closed my eyes, focusing on her warmth. Her lips parted ever so slightly. I pulled her in closely. With one hand behind her head, I allowed my other hand to slide down, resting just above her hip. I expected to feel her tense up, but she simply pulled me in even closer.
I found myself shifting, trying to deal with my body's response to her. Apparently, Tabby felt my growing excitement because she pulled back a bit and took a breath.
"Glad to see the bullet didn't get anything important," she said in a rough whisper.
"Sorry." I was a little embarrassed.
"Look. So… that isn't on the table tonight, but I'm leaving in fourteen hours and I want us to spend it together."
Classic Tabby. Don't worry about guessing what she is thinking because you will know it shortly. We made our way back to the apartment she shared with her dad. He was a member of the CO-OP board and was probably at the refinery overseeing the loading of cargo.
"You sure this is okay?" I asked, not wanting to incur her dad's wrath.
"Look, my problem. Not yours."
I didn't push it.
We lay down in her bed after she removed her station suit. She pulled the top shirt of her two piece suit liner off exposing a bra.
"Okay, that's as far as we go. Got it?"
I smirked. Oh, how I would miss this girl. I pulled her down on top of me and we started where we had left off. I spent the better part of an hour holding her and exploring her body with my hands and she did the same with me. We mostly avoided sensitive areas, although she was pretty curious. She did have a good idea of how far she was willing to go and finally we backed off and simply held each other, awaiting her pending departure.
At 1300, we woke to an alarm she had set. I sat on the edge of the bed while she readied herself for a shower. I was thrilled that she allowed me a small peek when she changed, but I knew better than to push it any further.
When she had finally changed into a fresh suit liner and pulled her suit back on we grabbed a small snack. I planned to spend every second I could with her until she took off. Why the frak hadn't we figured this out before yesterday? I mentally kicked myself, then laughed. I had lost my foot and this was my big regret. I felt so alive!
Her gear was already stowed in the freighter's passenger cargo area and she had a small bag that would stay with her on the trip. We walked back to Nick's apartment so I could shower and refresh my suit liner. I would have been willing to let her have a peek of me getting in the shower, but she didn't seem interested.
"Hey! Close your eyes. I want to show you something." It wasn't as important as it had been, but it was still something I wanted her to see. I strapped my prosthetic foot on and straightened my suit liner over the top. If I stood very
still you couldn't notice a difference between my legs. My foot was another thing entirely, but this is what I had to work with. I positioned myself in front of where she sat with her hands over her eyes.
"Okay. Open up," I said triumphantly.
She looked me up and down for a moment and gave me a small grin. "Hah, look at you. I didn't think you would get to that for a few days."
It wasn't exactly the reaction I was hoping for, although in retrospect I wasn't sure what I was looking for.
"Don't you like it?" I asked, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice.
"Sure I do," she answered.
I was confused and maybe a little hurt. She seemed completely unimpressed. I knew better than to whine at her but it just came out.
"Crap Tabby. I look normal, don't I?"
"Don't get your panties in a wad, Hoffen. Maybe you don't get it. Foot. No foot. Doesn't matter to me. If you weren't so darn dense, I wouldn't have had to throw myself at you last night. Imagine what we could have been doing if you would have figured that out a couple of years ago." Tabby looked at me, her eyebrows raised with a sort of school teacher disapproving look.
"Oh, geez, I want to space myself." I muttered.
"No kidding, right?" she replied.
Five hours couldn't have gone faster. We finally ended up at James' Rental and picked up Nick, who along with his mom, was suitably impressed with my prosthetic foot. The three of us loaded into my ore sled and made our way to the refinery.
I stood next to the gangway that Tabby would be walking up in a couple of minutes and felt an overwhelming sense of regret. We were down to kissing, at which point Nick definitely felt like a third wheel. He decided to head back to the sled. A chime warned the passengers that it was time for final loading.
We released each other and Tabby looked at me and delivered a knockout punch I would never forget, "Liam, I will always love you but get this straight. If you don't find yourself you will be no good to anyone. Live a good life my friend. I hope to see you again."
I was stunned and didn't even know how to respond. She gave me a peck on the cheek and a swat on the bum, then walked up into the freighter without so much as turning around. Wow, did she know how to make an exit.
TRIAL
Colony 40 falls within the jurisdiction of the Mars Protectorate. Roughly a tenth of the asteroid belt that occupies the space between Mars and Jupiter is under this Protectorate. The North American Federation has claim to fifteen percent, India claims another ten percent and China claims twenty. Other nations make claims, but have no capability of defending or enforcing their will in those areas.
The claims on these vast regions of space are generally a little ridiculous. The number of cubic kilometers in one percent of the belt is orders of magnitude larger than any individual nation. To most, however, claims of ownership appear to be an agreement between these nations more than some sort of patrol area.
The Mars Protectorate is much different. Mars was founded as a nation by representatives from each of Earth's countries. The history of the Mars Protectorate isn't much different than that of how the United States (predecessor to the North American Federation) was founded many centuries ago. Governments on Earth were making decisions for and about the citizens of Mars. The citizens rebelled. It was mostly a bloodless revolt, simply because Earth's nations didn't have the military capability to enforce their will over such a great distance.
Over the next several centuries, the citizens of Mars, under a single government, focused on building defenses and transforming the planet. It now had a breathable atmosphere and served as a busy base for the miners venturing into the asteroid belt.
With no other nations abutting, the threat of war was only possible across the vast expanse of space. The Protectorate was able to concentrate all of its security forces into a single entity which became known as the Mars Protectorate Navy. The Navy had two main missions. The first was defense and the second was as the peace keeping arm of the Judiciary.
A throbbing red light in my peripheral vision indicated I had received a priority communication. I nodded slightly, telling my AI to retrieve the message. The comm I received was in vid format from a Commander L.L. Sterra of the Naval Corvette Kuznetsov. The camera focused on a well groomed, middle aged woman in a dark blue flight suit. Her suit was adorned with a passant, also known as an epaulette, or shoulder strap, resting on the top of each shoulder. The passants were the same dark blue material as the flight suit and boasted gold stitching in the shape of a comet, complete with tail on the inside, next to the neck. Her rank was indicated by four bars stitched between the comet and her shoulder.
Commander Sterra's face was narrow. She boasted a thin nose and her hair was close cut, with the beginning streaks of gray. She seemed to be a very serious woman, but her voice was pleasant. I imagined that could change quickly.
"Greetings, Liam Peter Hoffen. Please listen to this recording in its entirety. You will be given an opportunity to respond to each of the charges at your formal hearing. First, you have the right not to respond directly to this message. Second, the responses you provide to this recording can be used as evidence in any matter before the Mars Judiciary. In order to listen to the contents of this message, you must first acknowledge these two rights by repeating them." She delivered these words as if she had said them many times before.
My AI prompted me, I have the right of no response. I repeated the words and heard a confirmation chime.
Any response I provide can be used in any matter before the Mars Judiciary, it prompted again. It took me a couple of shots to get it right and I wondered if my stumbling responses would be reviewed by Commander Sterra.
The image began speaking again, "Very good. There are three issues concerning you for which I have been given judicial oversight." She looked down at a reading panel in front of her, "First, the matter of the deaths of Earth-Mars Citizens Gaben Fuse, Ajun Benda, and Liet 'Bobby' Zui."
She looked back to her pad, "The second matter is the destruction of property on Colony 40, specifically the removal of foam-sealing safety containers and the release of their contents in the security control tower."
I gasped and pushed the hold key, not wanting to inadvertently provide a reply. I was furious. This was a pile of crap. I stewed for a few minutes, but decided I needed to get through it, so I pressed play again.
"The third is the matter of privateer's claim of salvage filed on your behalf." Commander Sterra looked up from her tablet and her face softened slightly. "Liam, I urge you to obtain counsel on the first two matters. If you are unable to afford competent legal counsel, it will be provided to you at no cost. I have already been in contact with your counsel, Mr. Ordena, with respect to the privateer claim. I will arrive at Colony 40 within seventy-two hours to convene a court hearing. Sterra out." The video faded to black and cut off.
To say I was stunned was an understatement. I was accused of killing pirates and destruction of the station.
I pinged Nick, who was quick to pick up.
"Did you get a message from Mars Judiciary?" I asked.
"Yup, she must have sent mine first. I just got off the comm with Mr. Ordena," Nick replied.
"So what did he have to say?"
"He said we should ask for legal counsel from the Mars Judiciary. Commander Sterra was clearly giving us her opinion and we would be wise to take the hint. None of the lawyers on the colony have any experience with this type of thing. Ordena said he sure didn't."
I pondered this for a minute, "Do you suppose Commander Sterra brings a defense lawyer with her?"
"She'd almost have to. Look, we didn't do anything to the Navy so they don't have a reason to mess with us. I've already made the request. Oh, and you need to sign that thing Ordena sent you. Basically, we created a corporation between you, me and Tabby. Company name is Loose Nuts. Ordena said it gives us an edge in our claim. Just sign it, though. We need to have it before the Navy shows up."
I dec
ided to take Nick’s advice and requested a public defender. I also signed the document that had been successfully ignored in my in-box and sent it on to Mr. Ordena. "Have to admit I was surprised Sterra brought it up," I said.
"Mr. Ordena says it's a good sign. Commander Sterra had the authority to deny our claim of salvage without hearing arguments, but she didn’t. That means she is considering it," Nick explained and then changed gears. "When will you be able to talk to Tabby?"
"They are still in hard burn. Radio transmissions are blocked for a couple of weeks yet."
Nick and I met up the next day to watch as the Kuznetsov was nudged into place by a seemingly never ending series of micro adjustments. At one hundred and twenty meters long, the Kuznetsov was shaped something like an arrow with six long tapered tubes strapped to the back third. A good portion of the surface of the ship was covered with turrets and missile launchers.
Spindly arms unfolded from the station and attached magnetically to several key points along the length of the hull. Docking collars from two different docking bays were extended and mated up to the docking rings of the Kuznetsov. The whole process took the better part of a couple of hours. Nick and I sat and watched from an observation dome a couple hundred meters above the equator of the station.
I finally broke the silence, "Frak, that thing is death on a stick."
I had never seen a ship that sleek. Most crafts on a mining colony were meant for moving large amounts of material from one place to another. A high premium was given to moving large volume and mass and virtually no consideration for the aesthetic. The lines of the Kuznetsov were sleek, the paint was a satiny black.
"It's all about sensor signatures." Nick broke my reverie.
Rookie Privateer Page 7
