by Jaleta Clegg
"Dace is such a common sounding name," his mother said as the crew was serving a dessert that looked sculpted not baked. "How did you ever come to have such a name?"
"I changed it," I said.
"To Dace?" She raised her perfectly shaped brows at me. "Whatever for? How bad was your name that you felt you had to change it?"
I didn't want to tell her all about my childhood growing up in an orphanage on Tivor. I didn't want to tell her why I'd changed my name. I didn't want to give her more ammunition to use against me.
"I like Dace."
"Do you have a last name or did you decide you didn't like one?" she asked.
"Dace works for me," I said.
"It isn't suitable. Tell me what your name was before."
"Zeresthina," Vance offered. "Zeresthina Dasmuller."
His mother frowned thoughtfully as she spooned a delicate bite of dessert to her mouth. "It has a certain charm to it that Dace lacks. But Dasmuller," she shuddered. "Yes, I see why you changed it. Very well, Zeresthina, tell me about your family."
I kicked Vance under the table. He moved so I hit the leg of the table instead.
"Yes, tell her about your cousin, Henry," he said. "I haven't met any other family."
"Yes, you have Vance. Remember on Viya Station, when you met me?"
"Viya Station? Whatever were you doing there?" His mother made it sound as if Viya Station were the lowest, most reprehensible place in the galaxy.
"Working, mother. The Patrol sends its officers where they are needed, regardless of their social standing." He nudged me under the table. I wasn't sure how to interpret it.
"I wish you hadn't insisted on signing up," she said. "There are other ways to fulfill your obligations to society at large."
"Yes, there are. But none of them sounded quite as exciting."
They went off into a discussion I didn't bother to follow. Vance had succeeded in steering his mother away from the topic of me and my family. For that small favor, I was grateful.
The crew cleared away the food. I wondered what we were supposed to do next.
"We usually aren't quite so formal on the ship, Zeresthina," his mother told me as she stood. She glanced at my dress. "But I must say that dress does suit you. Which designer made it for you?"
I looked at her blankly. Designer? What was she talking about? "Hester picked it out for me."
"Yes, well. I see you still need an education. Good night, Vance." With that she had dismissed me again.
I stood stiffly while she left the lounge. Vance lingered near the table until the crew left us some semblance of privacy. Then he turned to me and spoke very quietly.
"Why are you punishing yourself, Dace? You don't have to do this."
"Yes, I do," I said through gritted teeth. "We're getting married. Doesn't that mean I need to get to know your mother before I become part of the family?"
"Then I wish you luck. Good night," he added more loudly as the crew came back into the lounge to clear the table away. "Do you want me to walk you to your cabin?"
"Only if it won't break some social rule I don't know about," I answered.
He laughed. He took my arm and escorted me out of the lounge and down the hall. He stopped in front of my door and opened it.
"Good night, Dace." He pulled his arm free and walked away.
If I'd been hoping for some whispered secret confession, I was disappointed. I stepped into my cabin and shut the door.
I kicked off my shoes and sat on the bed. I couldn't make sense of Vance's actions. Or the anonymous note Hester had given me. Was I being misled? Was it all misdirection to keep me from the real conspiracy? I didn't know and I wouldn't until I'd investigated. Until then, I had to keep pretending. I had to convince Vance's mother that I loved him and that we were going to be married, whether or not she approved.
I lay back on the bed. I couldn't do it. But I had to. It was a much more difficult game. I wasn't playing cards or I would have won by now.
Chapter 33
Lowell stood in the main dome, staring out the tiny windows. The cables had finally come. Everyone with any skill had been pulled into helping Siy get the main generator rewired. Since Lowell was all thumbs at mechanical repairs, they'd asked him to please get out of the way and stay out of the way. Siy said it nicely enough, but his gritted teeth told Lowell that perhaps it was wiser to leave than to insist on helping.
He pushed his hands into his pockets. The scene outside changed little. Everett's ship sat in a docking port. Cables ran from it into the station. There was only one other ship in the landing bays, a hulking freighter that had brought the new cables. People in vacuum suits swarmed around the outside of it. They were preparing to leave. The ground rules, that Everett had set, were that no ship other than the Windrigger sat at Kluger Outpost for more than a few hours unless there were emergency circumstances. They had to stay hidden, until they had the information they needed and everything else was in place.
It was like an itch Lowell couldn't reach. He should have been in control, setting the rules, giving out the assignments, directing the actions of the dozens of ships now involved. But it wasn't him, it was Everett. This wasn't a Patrol operation, not anymore. If it ever had been.
Paltronis didn't seem bothered by any of it. She liked Everett and she knew enough about wiring that she wasn't sent to sit somewhere and feel useless.
Everett was doing a better job than he ever could at organizing the crews of the freighters. It was scary how quickly they had managed to get an operational smuggling ring working. He had almost more information now than he had at his strongest in the Patrol. Freighters were truly everywhere and heard just about everything.
The activity around the big freighter stopped. The people in suits headed into hatches. He glanced up, peering close to the window to see. Another ship was on its way in, braking rockets flaring brightly. He watched it land, wondering who was on the ship and why they were stopping and if he'd ever really know the answers.
An airlock tube was secured over the ship's hatch. The crew came through, wearing their ship's colors and carrying boxes of supplies. None of them stopped to talk with him. He turned back to the window.
"Contemplating the mysteries of the Kluger system?"
The man behind him was grinning, as if expecting to be recognized. He was average height, on the heavy side, with thick black hair. His face was unfamiliar.
"Am I supposed to know you?" Lowell asked politely.
"Probably not," the man answered. "You must be Commander Lowell. Pleased to make your acquaintance." He stuck out his hand.
Lowell smiled politely and shook it. "And you are?"
"Klaus Remington of the Albatross," he nodded at the ship still visible through the window. "Everett told me to come see you. I've got information you want. We've mapped the border satellites all through—"
"Lowell!" the shout rang urgently through the dome. Everyone walking past stopped, caught by the sound. Paltronis ran in, sliding to a stop near the center. She caught sight of him and straightened.
"What?" he asked.
"Cygnus Sector seceded."
"What?!"
"We got the deep field com unit working. The message was relayed through just now. There's another ship on its way in," she added.
"I don't care how you found out," Lowell said. "What was in the message?"
"Cygnus Sector seceded. Governor Hesson and her council voted on it four days ago. The entire Sector joined the Federation and booted the Empire out. But," she stopped his comments with a raised hand, "not the Sector Fleet stationed there. Apparently, Sector Chief Querran took a vote. The Fleet went with the Sector." She caught at the earpiece she wore and listened intently. "Hesson sent a speech. They're sending it through now."
Lowell rubbed his face as the recorded words echoed over the station speakers. He hadn't anticipated this. Cygnus Sector provided a lot of goods and food for the Empire. If they had left, things were going to go critical
very soon, and not just on the supply end. Five other sectors followed Cygnus' lead.
"Well, that makes my information useless," Klaus Remington mumbled.
"Wait, where did you map?" Lowell asked.
"Along the Prelain Nebula," Remington answered.
Governor Hesson was talking about depredations by the Patrol onto her sovereign power and territory. Pieces clicked into place, stray bits of information Lowell had picked up settled into a new pattern.
"Give me your data," Lowell told Remington.
Remington shrugged and handed over several data cubes.
"Thank you and please see one of these people if you need anything else," Lowell said. He was almost running out the door before he was done.
"You've got that look on your face," Paltronis told him as she caught up.
He slid around the corner and into the area he'd set up as a command post. He'd scrounged a few maps and a handful of data readers. He popped the cubes into readers and quickly scanned through the information. Paltronis watched over his shoulder.
"What are you looking for?" she asked.
"I've got it."
"Got what?"
He grinned as he scrolled through more data. He hummed as he started up the computers in the room and pulled up file after file. He dotted the main screen with symbols. Paltronis sat back and waited. Lowell scurried around the equipment.
Fifteen minutes later, Lowell was ready to talk. The main screen exploded with various colored dots and symbols. The other computers flashed urgently. The readers were all on, data pouring across the screens.
"What is going on?" Everett asked as he came into the room.
"I know where the crime syndicates are hiding their shipyard," Lowell said.
"And?" Everett asked impatiently.
"No congratulations?"
The lights in the room buzzed and flickered. Half the computers shut down. Everyone but Lowell glanced up. The lights came back on.
"We can't get the main generator to run for more than a few minutes and my ship is showing problems from the power drain," Everett said. "So tell me why you're in here acting like a manic rat with a hoard of cheese?"
Lowell stopped moving. "I like that one, Paltronis. A manic rat with a hoard of cheese. Write it down somewhere for me, will you?"
"Did he forget to take his medication or did he just snap?" Everett asked Paltronis.
She shrugged.
"They're here." Lowell stabbed his finger at the map projected over the table. "Right around this edge of the Prelain Nebula. They get raw materials from here," he pointed at a dim star near the nebula. "Right on the border of the Cygnus Sector, and I never suspected. There's an old ore facility there, a processing dump that was supposed to be fully automated quite some time ago. It never seemed to work right and was shut down. Now I understand why." He tweaked the controls. The map zoomed in on the area. "There are plenty of mining operations, plenty of ways to get raw materials where no one would notice."
"You can't build a ship out of ore," Paltronis said.
"Of course not. But you can refine it and process it in an automated facility and manufacture the hull plating and basic ship components."
"But what of the systems and the weapons?" Everett asked. "Those require a bit more sophistication to produce."
"Ylisini." Lowell pointed at another star near the nebula. "A heavy manufacturing world. There was a minor political revolt there about eight years ago. It would have been very easy to build extra plants or change the output without changing the quota sheets. If the right people were in charge of the records and shipping."
"You're saying the crime syndicates took over Ylisini? That's impossible."
Lowell didn't bother to identify the person speaking. He knew most of them were thinking the same thing. All except Paltronis, who knew better by now.
"They bought out most of the area near the nebula. I haven't been able to get an agent into that area for the last three years," Lowell said.
"We have ships that go in there regularly," Everett said. "Some of them are based out of those worlds." He leaned over one of the comps and accessed his ship's database. "Larkin Shipping is on Ylisini." He glanced over his shoulder at the people in the doorway. "I need someone who can contact Seabringer Clan. They own Larkin."
"My engineer," Klaus offered. "His wife's sister is Seabringer."
"I want you to find some excuse to go to Ylisini," Everett said. "I want you to find some way to confirm that they are shipping systems and weapons to unauthorized places. And Remington, be very careful. These aren't the usual thugs wanting protection money."
"I think that's obvious by now," Klaus said with a glance at Lowell. "Never thought I'd see us working for the Patrol and happy about it." He straightened his shipsuit. "If you've got some extra fuel I can be out of here within the hour. I've got a delivery on Lumier. I can find something there to get me Ylisini."
"Good," Everett answered. "Send word through Gypsy channels. We're headed for that area soon, but I'm not sure exactly where or when." He looked at Lowell, waiting.
Lowell tugged at one ear. He didn't like having Everett take over and give orders, but there was nothing to argue about in the orders he'd given. They were exactly what Lowell would have asked.
"Send out word to meet at Ytirus," Lowell said.
"Shamustel would be less obvious," Everett suggested. "We can claim a meeting of the clans. There are enough Family on Shamustel no one would think twice about our ships gathering there."
"Shamustel then," Lowell said, hiding his annoyance at being corrected. "I want to move within two weeks. I need to pay a visit to an old friend."
"We can leave a crew here to keep the base open," Everett said. "We've almost got the bugs worked out. The Windrigger can be ready to go within three days."
"That will have to do, won't it, Captain?" Lowell said.
Sirens suddenly shrieked through the station. The lights went red and started flashing.
"What in blazes is that?" Lowell shouted over the racket. He put his hands over his ears, like the rest of the people in the room. They all moved out into the hall where the noise was even more deafening.
Lowell headed for the equipment control room. He was frustrated and whoever had started the alarms shrieking was going to suffer for it, whether they deserved it or not. He hated not being the one in control.
"Shut it off, you moron," Siy shouted at one of his assistants.
"I don't know how," the man yelled back.
Paltronis pushed past Lowell and into the room. She grabbed a cable from the wall and pulled. The sounds shut off. The lights returned to normal.
"You can't do that!" Siy protested.
"I just did," Paltronis said. She held up the cable. "This is just the alarm system. I should know. You made me wire it."
"I was trying to keep you out of the way," Siy muttered.
"Why did you set them off?" Lowell asked.
"Because there's a Patrol ship on its way in," the assistant answered before Siy could.
Everyone in the room froze. This was what they had been hoping to avoid. There was no way to hide.
"The other ships, the ones insystem, are all headed out as fast as they can go," the assistant added.
"I'm gone," Klaus said. "We can make Rucal without a problem. It's better than being caught on the ground."
He hurried from the room, calling his ship as he went.
They huddled around the scanning screen, watching as the Patrol ship closed in on the base. It ignored the other ships, even Klaus as he blasted away.
"No weapons armed," the tech said. "No shields raised, other than the normal navigating ones."
"Can we identify them?" Lowell asked.
The tech shook his head. "The databank is outdated. I haven't had time to connect it into the ship and do a data dump."
"It wouldn't have done any good," Siy said. "We don't carry around id files on Patrol warships."
"It doesn't
matter," Everett said. "They're calling us."
They all looked at the com board. A single light flashed yellow and green.
"Shall we answer?" Everett asked Lowell.
Lowell walked to the com board and clicked a switch.
"Kluger Outpost, this is Praetoris calling, requesting permission to dock with the station. Please respond." There was a static for a long moment before the message repeated.
The equipment room was silent, tense and waiting. Lowell frowned down at the com station.
"What are you going to do?" Paltronis asked.
"Answer," Lowell said. "What else is there to do? If anyone asks, Everett, you can tell them I forced you into this."
"We can still organize something," Everett began.
"You don't have the weapons or the military expertise," Lowell said, cutting him off. "You have the ships and the people, yes. And you've done much more than I ever expected, but this isn't your fight anymore."
"Lowell," Paltronis said.
"We lost, Cici." His shoulders slumped. "I don't know how they found us, but we've lost. It's over."
"It isn't over until you're dead," she said sharply.
He took in a deep breath. He straightened his shoulders. "You're right. Silly me to have forgotten that." He snapped the com button, answering the call. "This is Kluger Outpost. Permission to dock denied. Go away." He flipped the switch back off. "Let's see what they do with that. Everett, you'd better use what time you have to disconnect your ship and get away if you can."
"We're staying, Lowell."
"Kluger Outpost, this is the Praetoris. Please explain your refusal."
Lowell pushed the button again. "It's really very simple. We don't have any working docking bays that can handle your ship."
They waited through a long stretch of static. When the com came back on, it was a different person speaking.
"Is that Commander Lowell?"
"And what if it is?"
"Then I've found the right place."
They waited through another pause.
"Aren't you going to demand my surrender? Aren't you going to arrest me?" Lowell waited, wondering about the pause.
"No, Commander Lowell, I am not," the voice answered. "Mostly because I think you're doing the right thing. This is Commander Wexford. I want to talk to you. Is there any sort of landing facility working? The shuttle bays were functional ten years ago when a mutual friend of ours assigned me the garrison there."
