Cooper pulled out his datapad, running it across the text to get a translation, and read, “Death to the Starborn.” He looked at the Neander, raising an eyebrow, and said, “I see your system of government is not particularly popular.”
“There are always those who are determined to cause trouble. We were the ones who built an interstellar civilization, and it is only fair that we should reap the rewards of generations of work. Anything else would be unfair.” Tapping a door, she said, “This one.”
His hand on his pistol, Cooper stepped into the darkened room, looking at the rows of bunks hastily placed along the wall, piles of bags and boxes scattered everywhere. More graffiti covered the walls, and a single Neander lay asleep on a bed, a thin brown blanket tossed over him.
“Not him,” Morigna said. “Though I suspect he knows where he is.” Roughly shaking him, she ordered, “Wake up, crewman.”
Looking at them through bleary eyes, he replied, “I did three shifts in a row. Can't I get any peace?”
“Not when traitors roam the decks.”
“I'm not interested in talking to the lackeys of the Starborn.”
Taking a pace forward, Cooper said, “Then perhaps you're willing to help save the life of one of your friends. There is circumstantial evidence that suggests Oktu as the man behind an attack on the Commander of Alamo. If we can find him, we might be able to clear his name.”
“Don't make me laugh. You don't have any interest in what is really going on down here, or you wouldn't be propping up a tyrant like Ghewon, or creatures like her.” He looked venom at Morigna, and added, “An illustrious Security Legate, bound to keep the peace, and beat anyone she thinks threatens it.”
“Do you want to get home?” Bradley asked. “Someone tried to destroy this ship yesterday, and whoever it is doesn't seem to care about how many people die in the process. If the Xandari attack, do you think they'll show you any mercy?”
“No, I think they'll take us back to an extraction camp. And if we get home, I'll be put to work back in the mines again, so what's the damn difference?” He looked up at Cooper again, and said, “Some said that you were different, that you were bringing some sort of new ideals with you. I haven't seen any sign of them yet.”
“Morigna, leave the room,” Cooper said.
“I beg your pardon?”
Turning to her, he said, “Get out. Now. I'll talk to this man alone.”
With a furious glare, she replied, “I will be summoning security forces to take this man into custody. Obviously he is in league with the traitors.”
“No, you won't.”
“I'll make sure of that,” Bradley said, leading the Neander out.
As the door closed, the worker said, “Once you go back to that fancy starship of yours, she'll have me arrested. I just don't care any more, not about that. Or anything.”
“The Triplanetary Confederation will give you amnesty. In exchange for information.”
“I won't sell out my friends.”
Sitting on an adjacent bunk, he replied, “I wouldn't ask you to. What I need to know is what is going on down here? What do the refugees think is happening?”
“We're being taken back home, where we will have a tearful reunion with our families, assuming they haven't long-since written us off for dead or been transferred to other worlds, and end up going back to our old jobs a few days later. Those who aren't taken for loyalty screenings.” With a smile, he added, “Nice allies you've found.”
“Can you prove all of this?” Cooper asked.
“Not until it happens.” He shrugged, and added, “Maybe I'm out of date, and the revolution happened while we were away. The Starborn control everything, all the starships, all the corporations, the whole government. With a few puppets from the lower orders to make it look good, a few idealists allowed to get on board starships. Who are then worked to death and used for cannon fodder in their wars.”
“And Oktu?”
“Has been calling for us to act now, to strike back against our oppressors, but that doesn't make him a traitor, and he isn't stupid enough to attack the only ship that's defending us from attack. As soon as we reach Testament Station...”
“Let me guess,” Cooper said. “Just to put the pieces together. Grab some shuttles, get over there, hide in the population. Hundreds of you?”
“Maybe more.” Sitting up, the Neander said, “The last thing any of us want is to delay our trip. There are a lot of Neander over there, many of my people, and it's the only hope we have for a new life.”
Nodding, Cooper said, “You'll get there. My word on that. I'll have you transferred to Alamo on the next shuttle, and you can either stay with us or head over to the station as soon as we get there. Your choice.”
“I have a wife.”
“Her as well. Where is she?”
“Dormitory Twenty-Four, on the far side of the ship.” Shaking his head, he said, “I think they prefer to keep us separated. Makes it easier for them to control us.”
The door slid open, and Bradley stepped in, saying, “She ran off. Down the corridor. I couldn't stop her.” She clutched at her side, and blood was beginning to run into her uniform. “Pulled a knife on me.”
“We've got to get you to a medical facility,” Cooper said. “Shuttle bay, right now. You...”
“You'll never make it,” the Neander replied. “They'll have the whole area on lock-down, and I bet you'll find your communicators aren't working either.” He rose to his feet, warily looking at them, and said, “If this is some sort of trick...”
“My wife needs a doctor,” Cooper pressed.
“Your wife?” the Neander asked. “Very well. Follow me, and hurry. Can you walk?”
“For a moment,” Bradley said.
Wrapping his arm around her, Cooper led his wife after the Neander as they made their way down the corridor. He fished out his communicator, but as he'd expected, the signal was being jammed. Probably the internal systems working against him, which meant that the conspiracy was higher up than he had hoped.
They staggered to a small elevator, and the Neander entered a twenty-digit code from memory, frowning over the final three numbers, but the doors slammed shut as they lurched to the side. Pulling open a hidden hatch, he tossed Cooper a small pouch.
“Medical kit. I guess it will suit your people as well as it does ours.”
As Cooper ripped open the packet, pulling out the bandages, he said, “I don't even know your name.”
“Segna. I'm a communications technician.” He glanced at the door, and said, “And one of the Brotherhood.”
“Which is?”
“I suppose the closest analogy would be a union. We're fighting for the rights of the oppressed, back home. There were dozens of us at the facility.” Shaking his head, he added, “I think they made sure to put anyone they suspected at the greatest possible risk. Too many of us ended up assigned to dangerous operations.”
Pulling open his wife's uniform, Cooper started to work on the wound, injecting an anticoagulant before applying the synthskin patch on top. He looked up at Bradley's pale face, her breath growing more rapid.
“I've had worse than this,” he said.
“Trust me, I'm happy to let you win that particular competition,” she gasped.
“That red one is a painkiller,” Segna offered, and Cooper applied the injection, his wife's breathing rapidly calming, color returning to her face.
“Thanks,” Bradley said.
He shrugged, and replied, “I'm not going to watch you suffer for protecting me. Violence is not our way. Though we've certainly suffered enough.” The doors opened on a dark deck, and Segna led them out onto the corridor. “Lower maintenance level, close to the waste reclamation system.”
Cooper wrinkled his nose, and said, “So I smell.”
“None of the o
fficers ever come down here. Beneath their dignity to get their hands in the muck.” Looking worriedly at Bradley, he added, “If you can manage a few more paces, we're almost there.”
“I'll make it,” she said.
The group staggered around a corner and through an open door, Bradley and Cooper collapsing onto a worn couch. Segna looked around, then ran back out into the corridor, the door closing behind them.
“Here, let me see if I can do anything else,” Cooper said.
“You should leave,” she replied. “Go and find your way back to Alamo.”
“Not without you.”
“Gabe, this looks a lot like a trap to me.”
Patting his sidearm, he said, “Not much of one, though. We'll get through it. Besides, I trust him. So far he's shown more interest in our welfare than our so-called friends from the upper hierarchy.”
“You believe his story?”
“I believe there are two sides to every picture, and we've only been given a good look at one of them up till now. If this gives us a chance to see what lies under the surface here, so much the better.” He tugged out his communicator, and shook his head, “Still jammed. Might as well ditch the damn thing.”
Pointing at a long tube in the corner, Bradley said, “Is that what I think it is?”
Cooper moved over to the far side of the room, and smiled, “A refuse shaft. Airlock type, so it must lead outside the ship. They've got them scattered all over the place.” He pulled out his communicator, and started to tap out a brief message, his fingers quickly working the keys, and slid it down the tube. With a loud rip, the hatch cycled, tossing the device out into space.
The door opened, and he turned to see a group of Neander standing at the threshold, all of them armed except Segna. A flash of recognition passed as he recognized Oinos, one of the men he had fought beside during the escape, who lowered his weapon and nodded.
“I'll vouch for him.”
Glancing to the side, the leader replied, “We don't dare take a risk. Not with so much at stake. Not now they know about our plan.”
“Do you plan to keep us here?” Cooper asked.
“I have a medic on the way to look at your wife,” he said. “I suggest any decision about your future disposition be delayed until she's had a look at her.” With a smile, he added, “And to answer your next question, I am Oktu, and no, I didn't knock out the fuel tank, nor did I send the assassins after you. Why would I? That scout was bringing you to meet me.”
“I thought...”
“As I said, we don't dare take a risk, Ensign.” A female Neander in a white tunic stepped in, carrying a large case, and pushed forward towards Bradley.
“Can this wait?” she asked. “I've got work to do.”
“Certainly. We will talk later, Ensign. I hope you forgive the guards. Food and water will be provided shortly.”
“Then we are prisoners.”
“Ensign, take my word for it, you'd never live to reach a shuttle. Not now. We will talk, and soon.”
Chapter 7
“Where the hell are they?” Orlova said, glowering at the viewscreen, Ghewon looking sheepishly at her. “Two of my officers go missing, and I'm not informed for nine hours?”
“I'm sorry, Captain, but it is not my responsibility to keep track of your wayward personnel. If you recall, they were stationed here against my explicit wishes. I accept no blame for this incident.” Shaking his head, he said, “The representative I assigned to assist Ensign Cooper and his wife informed me that they had ventured into the lower levels by themselves, and had insisted they conduct the investigation alone.”
“I don't believe that for a second.”
“What you believe does not concern me. I am simply reporting the facts. They are missing, and I think it certain that the traitors have captured them. It would not surprise me to receive demands for their release in the near future, assuming of course that they are not dead already. Something I fear is all too likely.”
“Ma'am,” Cantrell said, looking at her, “We can have a search team over there in five minutes. The entire platoon is standing by on the hangar deck.”
“You most certainly will not!” Ghewon said. “This is a vessel of the Interstellar Collective, Captain, and though we might for the moment be allies, I will not permit you to send troops on board. My decision is final. We will conduct the search, and I will keep you informed of our findings.”
“Not enough,” Orlova said.
“It'll have to be.”
“Fine.” She turned to the helm and said, “Midshipman Armstrong, plot a course to the hendecaspace point, and inform Senior Lieutenant Powell that I wish a fastest-time dimensional track to Testament Station. We'll be conducting our repairs ahead of schedule.”
“Aye, ma'am,” Armstrong replied, turning back to her controls.”
“You can't do that!” Ghewon protested. “You're leaving your own people behind, as well as ours!”
“Neither of them would hesitate for a second before offering their lives for those of their shipmates. You seem of the opinion that they are dead, and if that is so, we have nothing further to do here.”
“The Xandari...”
“I suggest you prepare some sort of protest-based defense for their arrival. Alamo...”
“Wait!”
She paused, smiled, and said, “Very well.”
Looking to his right, Ghewon said, “I cannot allow Triplanetary troops on this vessel. Feelings are already running high over here, and there have been protests. A platoon of Espatiers would only exacerbate the problem. The radicals would assume that I had called you in to fight them.”
“If they're capturing my people, they'd be right about that.”
“Captain, I'm walking a tight-rope here. We're holding on until we can get back to our space, but you need to understand the delicacy of our situation.”
She sighed, then said, “I'm coming over. Myself. With one other officer. I want to take a look at the crime scene, and gather information to be processed in our laboratories. We're built for detailed analysis. You aren't.”
Ghewon paused, then asked, “No troops?”
“No.”
“Then I agree. Come in at Docking Bay Nine, and I'll have an escort standing by to meet you.”
“Very well. One final thing, Ghewon. Not that I don't trust you, but I think it should be very clear that should I experience any hostility while I am over there, the results will be most unpleasant for both of us. I'll have an open communications channel back to Alamo for the entire duration of my visit, and should it be interrupted for a second, Sergeant Gurung and his team will be over before you can say 'hostage rescue'. Is that understood?”
“I must...”
“Is that understood?”
He nodded, and said, “I understand. We'll do everything we can to keep you safe, Captain. My word on that. Ausori out.”
Nelyubov, silent throughout the conversation, said, “I wouldn't give you a bent centicred for his word, skipper. I'd bet my next month's pay that he's hiding something.”
“I really hope you aren't expecting me to take that bet, Frank,” she replied. “Of course there are things he isn't telling us, but he doesn't know where Cooper is.”
Cantrell nodded, and said, “I agree. He doesn't fit the profile, and the guilty parties will be wanting to maintain their cover.” Turning to Orlova, she said, “Request permission to go in your place, Captain.”
“Denied.”
Nelyubov shook his head, and said, “Going over there is risky, and potentially handing over our commanding officer to a group of people we can't trust...”
“I'm going, Frank. He isn't going to let anything happen to me, not knowing what would happen if it did. Foster can go with me as my assistant and shuttle pilot.” With a smile, she turned to Cantrell, and said, �
�Tell Sergeant Gurung I need a volunteer from the Neander contingent of the Espatiers. I want them in work clothes to match those used on Ausori, ready in my shuttle.”
Cantrell beamed, and said, “Clever, Captain. I doubt you'll have any trouble finding someone to take that assignment.”
“Nor do I. Frank, you have the bridge.”
“Actually, I'd like to accompany you to the hangar deck.”
Stepping over to the elevator, she replied, “Very well. Cantrell, the bridge is yours. Keep monitoring for any sign of activity, and inform me immediately if there is any trouble.” She paused, then said, “Once I've left the ship, I want Sergeant Gurung on one minute's notice for departure, and the ship brought to alert status. Make it as obvious as you can, and if you feel like conducting weapons drills, go right ahead.”
“I'll put on a good show for them, ma'am.”
The two of them stepped into the elevator, and as she punched for the hangar, she said, “Go on, Frank, get it out of your system.”
“You know what I'm going to say already.”
“Almost down to the word.”
“I would never disagree with you in front of the crew, Maggie, but this is a foolish risk.”
She looked up at him, and replied, “It is a risk, but a calculated one. We've got to get someone on board that craft, and I'll provide the best possible distraction to sneak an agent on board.”
“Another risk. If he gets caught...”
“I'm certain that Corporal Walpis will know the odds.” She smiled, then said, “It'll be him. Rank has a few privileges, after all. I trust him to be careful.” She paused, adding, “What would you do?”
“At this point? I'd have Sergeant Gurung boarding Ausori now, with a prize crew under Lieutenant Cantrell to assume command of the ship while we tore it apart. Then we install a competent commander, maybe Aussketi, and wait for Daedalus to get back.”
“Ruining any potential alliance with the Collective.”
“That's ship's sailing, Maggie, and it's taking some of our people with it. If Ghewon is at all representative of what we'll be dealing with when we get there, I'm not sure it's worth the trip.” He paused, smiled, then said, “You asked me what I'd do. I suppose if I really was in your position, I'd be doing the same as you.”
Battlecruiser Alamo: Final Testament Page 6
