Spinward Fringe Broadcast 5: Fracture

by Randolph Lalonde

  Ayan led the way to the refugee crew, striding confidently and swiftly. They followed behind her like a black wave. “Welcome to the Triton. We don't support slavery. We'll provide food, reasonable lodgings and will let you leave as soon as we've made port.”

  A scrawny, filthy man with bulging eyes and uneven cheekbones stepped forward nervously. “If you have work and food that doesn't give me a rash I'll take it. I think I speak for everyone.”

  “Aye, but find a cell or an airlock for the doctor here first,” added the tall woman standing beside the first speaker.

  Ayan stopped five meters away from the group and looked them over. Her gaze came to rest on the blonde woman on the deck. One unswollen green eye looked at her pleadingly. “They beat me, please help,” she rasped wetly.

  “You're the only one without a slave implant,” Ayan said. It was more a statement than a question. “First we'll use Captain Valance's nanobot program to remove them from everyone else while you receive treatment for your injuries. Then we'll be putting you in a cell. We're not allied with any governments so until we decide what to do with you, that's where you'll stay.” Ayan highlighted the program Jake had used to neutralize the slave implants and forwarded it to the soldiers around her. The suspense in the air surrounding the slaver's exact fate was palpable. “Just so you know, Doctor, I'm the kinder commander aboard. Captain Valance already executed your Captain and his First Officer aboard the Palamo.”

  The medical team arrived and Ayan stopped them with a gesture just as they were about to focus on the wide eyed woman on the deck. “Does anyone else have life threatening injuries?”

  No one in the slave crew stepped forward. Most of them stared at Ayan in astonishment.

  “All right, go ahead and treat her. Don't take her to medical, take her to the brig instead.” She turned to Sean. “You four, make sure she gets there. Squads nine and ten; offer to remove their implants and add them to the ship registry as guests until we can figure out where they'll be working if they wish to stay. After you've finished, help these people to medical, lower aft berthing, the galley, whatever they need.”

  Chapter 10

  Triton Bridge Culture

  Oz narrowed the focus of his secondary display to Minh's position, his fighter's status, and physical report. His Ramiel fighter was between the station and the planet, running close scans of the damaged structure. The fighter itself was under stress, fighting the gravity of the dense planetoid beneath as Minh manoeuvred between the hanging struts of the structure.

  The fighting had stopped outside the station. Every single ship had been secured, disabled or destroyed, nothing had gotten away. It had been a nightmare to coordinate and Oz had to give Minh credit, if he weren't so easy to work with, so decisive and well practised something would have slipped past them and there would have been many more losses.

  The day had been won on their front, but there was so much left to do. “Ronin, it's time to come on in.”

  “But I don't want to get out of the water, mom,” Minh replied, mock whining.

  “Seriously, you need to come on back and take care of the squadrons. You've got a lot of pilots who had to bail and don't know if they accomplished anything today. Nathan's finished the debriefings but a thumbs up will mean a lot more from you.”

  “What did we accomplish today Oz?”

  The question was only mildly surprising. Minh had been more pensive, more insightful ever since he'd been back. No surprise, considering all the time he had all to himself. Oz thought. “The word's in from the Captain. The Palamo is a slave ship, so is the rest of that raider fleet you just nailed down. We just freed over eight hundred on the Palamo alone, tally on the rest isn't in. We've also landed five slightly abused ships on deck.”

  “Freeing slaves, capturing ships. Now that's something.”

  Oz watched as Minh's sleek, predatory starfighter angled away from the planetoid and passed between two main supports. He set a course for Minh to follow to the main hangar, alerted the deck crews that he was inbound and sent it to his fighter. “Calling everyone else in behind you. I'm setting a patrol of one squadron that's finishing their rest cycle.”

  “All right, I'll visit the bridge when I can get free.”

  Oz stepped down from the platform and invited deck Chief Vercelli to take his place. “Sorry Chief, I know his stats were fine but I need Ronin to have enough energy left to take care of house keeping when he gets back aboard.”

  “I've been around the Flight deck long enough to know a Wing Commander spends half his time flying a desk. I have to tell you, this flight control deck is something else. It makes it a lot easier to follow what's going on and make decisions. I see you have some pretty fierce training though, you make running things look easy.”

  “I've had a lot of training and experience on a couple carriers. You're right though, these systems are so easy to run my five year old niece could operate them.”

  “I liked your choices here today. I think we're going to get on well.”

  “Thanks Chief. Tell me if anything interesting comes up.”

  “Will do.”

  Passing from the flight control deck with the constant chatter of two dozen operators, coordinators, tactical officers and technicians to the bridge was like going from one world to another. The combat stations on the bridge were nearly silent, calmly maintaining systems, keeping aware of changing conditions as fighters landed and took off and monitoring the exterior situation. Jason had joined the three communications officers at their stations, where they monitored local transmissions and directed the screening of the massive quantity of data they'd downloaded earlier.

  “Captain Valance reports completion of a full sensor sweep on the Palamo. Five other ships have surrendered. Chief Vega reports that she's finished her sweep of the station and the injured are being loaded onto the Cold Reaver. She's attached a communications device to a structural support, hoping that we can use it to get through to the survivors,” Agameg Price reported from the Captain's chair as he stood and made his way back to the lead tactical terminal.

  “Thank you Lieutenant. Did the Captain have any directions for us?”

  “He said he'd be finished checking the viability of the Palamo in the next half hour but it doesn't look good. The initial scan is at the top of the command log.” Agameg smiled and checked in with his own subordinate who had much less to report.

  “Right above this message from Chief Frost called; 'All dressed up for nothin.'” Oz shook his head and called up the report on the Palamo.

  “Frost can be a little,” Agameg hesitated a moment, considering his choice of words carefully. “Abrasive. He's very good at his job though.”

  “So I hear,” Oz nodded as he looked at the slowly turning three dimensional view of the Palamo. “Now that's an old carrier,” he muttered. Its rectangular hull looked like the decks were roughly stacked atop each other. The power plants and landing bays were easily distinguishable, like the design was modular at one time but the parts had grown together as time wore on and repairs were made. “I can see why he doesn't think it's worth salvaging. One bay is completely compromised, there are about thirty compartments open to space and the reactors are cold.”

  “Do you think Captain is looking to take on another carrier? There's the Viscount's Pride as well, though it doesn't look as well crewed and it's in much worse condition than the Palamo.”

  Oz thought for a moment, looking at the old carrier. He could picture it in its day, some government had paid billions of dollars to put into service, most likely over a hundred years before. What he was seeing was a carrier made for extremely long range combat. Its strength was in its fighters. Some of the old, scorched launch ports had been sealed or patched over, and they obviously used one of the broad decks to launch their various fighters. They had added large exterior holds, throwing the vessel off balance and one of the landing decks had been refitted to launch guided missiles. “If he is, this isn't the one he'd want.
Besides, we'd need a whole other crew and we're just getting the hang of the Triton.” He looked to Agameg, who was watching him as though he was soaking in every word, taking in every mannerism. “What do you think? Would the Captain Valance you know want to expand his fleet?”

  “Oh, no. I wouldn't know for certain in any case, he doesn't confide in me,” Agameg sounded almost startled, turning his attention back to his station.

  “Well, if these smaller ships are in any kind of salvageable condition he might keep them. We have the room.”

  “That would be likely, especially considering the condition of the Samson.”

  “You've been down to see it?”

  “Yes, it's sad seeing it in such disrepair.”

  “You're telling me,” Ashley added from the helm. Her controls were locked, there was little to do other than watch proximity and ensure they were holding position. “I couldn't help but get a little weepy when I saw all our stuff lined up in little piles. It's like I didn't realize Captain might scrap the ship until I saw he had our kits cleared out. Then, that's been happening a lot lately.” she said quietly.

  “What's that, Ashley?”

  “Me getting weepy. I guess it's just with everything changing. It's been like that for months, but then you just got here so-”

  “Don't worry, things will level out, at least for a while,” Oz reassured her with a little smile.

  “You think?”

  “I know. I was in the service a long time, you get a sense of when a crew starts finding their rhythm and I think we're there.”

  Ashley smiled back at him and nodded. “Hope you're right. Maybe I could get a couple days off.”

  “I think we could all use a couple days.”

  Ayan strode onto the bridge and sat down beside Oz. She nodded at him curtly as she transferred her connection with Security Chief Vega to the command display. She was affixing another antenna wire to an exposed part of the station superstructure beside the thick interior door. “Perfect. Sorry I led you to the wrong connection before,” Ayan apologized.

  “You couldn't have known that support had been destroyed further in. I'm just glad Ronin took a more detailed scan,” Stephanie replied.

  “Have you seen life support systems on your way through?”

  “They're fried as far as I can tell. Looked like someone hit them with a small explosive.”

  “All right, watch your team's power levels. With your gravity compensation packages you will only have a few hours of power. You'll have to return to the Cold Reaver to recharge if you start getting low.”

  “I have been, thank you Commander. I'll hold position here with a squad just in case they open the doors and feel like talking.”

  “Good, contact me if anything comes up.” She turned to the communication station, where Jason and his officers directed the efforts of many more technicians in the intelligence office. “Start broadcasting a hail to the people inside please. Emphasize that we've forced the surrender of the raiders, identify us as the Free Carrier Triton.”

  “Yes Ma'am,” Cynthia replied.

  Oz looked Ayan up and down. It was the first time he'd seen her in a Triton uniform. “Black looks good on you,” he whispered.

  “What?” she looked down. “Oh, thank you. Feels pretty familiar actually. I'm just glad they're thicker than Freeground uniforms, even without the armour plating.”

  “Have you tried the plating?”

  Ayan nodded. “I took mine off before returning to the bridge. Moves really well but it'll take a while to get used to.”

  “Don't think Jake will want you on an excursion team? Agameg and I were just talking and I think we agree that he'll want to keep a few of those smaller ships. There are two more thirty meter ones landing right now.”

  “I can't see why not. Whole lot of work waiting to happen though.”

  “I think the deck crews are up to it.”

  “The deck crews? I'd think an engineering team would be more appropriate. They're not starfighters, the smallest of the longer range ships is the same mass as the Samson.” She scrolled through the tactical display and found another, larger ship with engine and power system damage. “Then there's this one. Ninety six meters long and perfectly serviceable. I'm sure he'll make it a priority as soon as we get the Triton’s new engines installed.”

  Ayan was on edge, he'd known her long enough to see there was trouble right away. “Everything okay?” he asked quietly.

  “I'm fine. It's just been a long day and it's only eleven.”

  “It just seems that something's up. I've got a handle on things here if you want to grab something to eat or get some coffee.”

  Ayan sighed and discreetly pressed a couple of buttons on the arm of her chair, bringing up the sound dampeners around them so the rest of their conversation wouldn't carry across the bridge. “Jake and I had a row.”

  “Oh, what happened?”

  “I pushed him, kept on him, asking what's wrong. I didn't like the answer.” She shrugged and dropped the dampener field.

  Oz raised it again. “What was the answer?”

  “I don't want to talk about it.” She cleared her throat and shifted in her seat as she brought up a detailed schematic of the Palamo.

  “It might help.”

  “Not now, Oz.” She flicked the dampening field off irritably.

  “I'm here if you need me,” he whispered.

  “Thank you.”

  “I'm going to get some coffee, want one?” Oz asked.

  “You don't have to do that you know, you're in command.”

  “I need to stretch my legs. So what'll it be?”

  “Mocha, thanks.”

  He put his hand on her arm for a moment and caught her eye. “It'll be all right,” he reassured. “Believe it.”

  She smiled at him wanly. “Thanks Oz.”

  Ayan watched him leave the bridge. There was a conference room right across the hall that could serve as a galley. The materializer there was particularly quick and well calibrated.

  “What? He's not going to ask if anyone else wants something? Rude,” Ashley whispered to Larry.

  “Oh, what would you like Ash?” Ayan asked, knowing the younger woman didn't realize she was overheard.

  Her look of alarm and immediate blushing made Ayan grin. “Oh, I didn't mean! I mean, I was just kidding!” she whispered in a rush.

  Ayan looked up Ashley's last materializer order and nodded to herself. “Oz, can you get Ashley a hazel nut Columbian coffee with two cream?”

  “Hazel nut with two cream, gotcha. Anything else?”

  “Anyone else want something?”

  “Oh, have him get a double cappuccino for me?” Laura called out from her energy field specialist station.

  “Oh, that sounds good. One for me too please,” Jason looked to the Cynthia and the other two communications officers. “You guys want anything?”

  “Just a regular coffee,” Cynthia added.

  The other two shook their heads.

  “Did you get that, Oz?” Ayan asked with a broad grin.

  “Yes, Crewcast kept track. You'll pay for this, you know.”

  “Thaaank you.!” Ayan replied sweetly to the restrained mirth of the bridge staff. “I'll send a security officer to help.”

  One of the four guards on bridge duty nodded and started for the door.

  “Ayan, the comm unit Chief Vega hooked up is transmitting. It's the station Foreman,” Jason announced from the communications station.

  She looked at him, slightly surprised. “That was quick. Make the Captain aware and ensure that he can listen in.”

  Cynthia opened the connection to Captain Valance and explained; “The station has made contact sir, Ayan's ready to take the comm. No, she hasn't started speaking to them yet.” Cynthia looked confused for a moment and replied; “Yes sir.” She looked to Ayan then, and glancing at Jason who was listening in passively as he reviewed other information, relayed the Captain's instructions. “H
e says he trusts you to make the right decisions for the crew and you should handle things with the station for now. He seems busy with the Palamo.”

  “Time to put the diplomacy segment of Officer's training into play. Good luck,” Jason grinned.

  “You have more training in that area, perhaps-”

  “Nope, it's all you. Putting the station through right now, Commander.”

  Ayan whipped her head forward to make eye contact with a nondescript blue avatar that was a place holder for a holographic image of who she was speaking with. It was an indication that they could see her, but there was no video or holographic signal from their end. “This is Commander Ayan of the Free Ship Triton.”

  “Thank you for your assistance with the raiders! Do you have a Commission ident or Commerce License number for this region?”

  Ayan glanced at her main display and saw that Jason had brought up the Triton’s transponder information, which didn't include any kind of sector registration information but still marked it as a Sol Defence Systems Vessel. There were two other registrations beneath, the most current of which was a Core Worlds Commercial Licence number for hauling and freelance law enforcement for the Samson. It was the most up to date Licence they had on file. She highlighted it and sent the information over, trying not to cringe. “We've been in deep space for some time and haven't re-registered this vessel, but we do operate legally through another licence that's more current.”

  “Thank you. On behalf of Ossimi Ring Station I'd like to thank you for your assistance with the raiders. After the Eden Fleet disabled our defences and some kind of virus killed our workforce we didn't think it could get any worse. I'm Forewoman Amanda Dimitri.”

  “You're welcome. It turns out that the raiders were part of a slave crew and we've managed to subdue the commanding officers. Our people are tending to the slaves and disarming their control devices now.”

  “How fortunate for them. I'm wondering if you have adequate personnel to assist us with our power and life support problem. We had to disable most of our own critical systems in the outer sections in order to slow the raider's progress. Now we're down to four contained high gravity suits and it'll take us months to repair even a small section of the station. We have the spare parts and a few portable systems, we just can't get them into place within a reasonable time frame.”