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Spinward Fringe Broadcast 5: Fracture

Page 16

by Randolph Lalonde


  He checked his Command and control unit for Ayan and Minh's operational status even though he knew exactly what was going on. He'd already reviewed Ayan's short negotiation with the Station Forewoman. It was difficult not to be irritated, angry at her for agreeing to go in unarmed. Having a squad of soldiers ready in a ship hundreds of meters away wasn't a very effective backup plan either.

  He looked up Minh again and was surprised to see Paula's outline join him on the Crewcast location map, then astonished as he watched them go off together. I hope he knows what he's getting into. Hell, I don't even know what he's getting into. For all I know she's a lot of fun one on one. He couldn't help but smile at himself at the thought of Minh and Paula hyper at the same time in the same place. Oh, this is trouble.

  “Sir,” said one of the slave refugees from the Palamo.

  He recognized him immediately, it was the one he'd saved just in time. He was the first to be entered into the transfer roster from the Palamo to the Triton. The young woman he'd been with was beside him, her hand in his. “David, right?”

  “Yes sir. I'm wondering if I could request a position aboard, permanently.”

  Jake looked down at the pair's wrists to ensure that they'd already received one of the provisional communication and monitoring bracelets that his security officers were passing out. David had fitted his comm unit tightly, in the flexible wrist band style while his companion, Nerine, had set hers to hang like a loose, stiff bracelet. They both had a netted embarkation bag with a tube with a standard vacsuit and a box with emergency rations.

  The fabrication deck had come through with flying colours as they generated all kinds of essentials for their new passengers in short order. The comm bands were Jake's indication that David and his companion had been through the basic orientation, so David's question came as a surprise. The rest of the passengers, a couple security guards tasked with guiding groups of refugees to the general aft berthing and eighty or so refugees were all watching him, waiting to see how he handled David's quiet request. “It'll take a couple of days for us to find places for everyone who wants to stay.”

  “I think I speak for most everyone when I say that we're staying. It's been a long time for most of us since we got fair room and board for a days' work and if the rumours are true we'll stay because of what you're doing out here.”

  Jake didn't know what to say. All eyes were on him, there were so many expectations behind nervous stares that implied a delicate thread of new hope.

  “You used to hunt people down but now you free slaves and get people help,” Nerine stated. “The feeds on Enreega kept replaying your speech until the Eden Fleet came.”

  He'd never seen anyone look so small. David was a broad shouldered man, Nerine was a young woman who seemed like the type who could gather attention and take it in stride but as they stood there, hand in hand, looking so uncertain they could have been lost children. “I do what I can.” He put his hands on their shoulders. “Right now I have room for every freed slave and I'll try to find a port for anyone who doesn't want to stay. I can't afford to pay any of you cash right now, but, like my people told you, I can give you a bunk, food, somewhere to work and a cause if you're looking for one.”

  David glanced at Jake's reassuring hand before asking; “But what do you do exactly? Where is this ship headed?” He cleared his throat and added; “with all due respect, Captain.”

  Jake smiled wanly and nodded. The question was unexpected, the answer was something he was just becoming certain of himself. “We're going after the Order of Eden however we can without getting scrapped. This is a ship crewed by refugees,” he stopped for a moment, letting go of the pair and looking across the crowd in the bulk express car. “Refugees who've become revolutionists.”

  Jake glanced up at one of the security guards. He stared back at him with a grin from within his armoured hood. It was one of the soldiers who had defected from the Aucharian military when Enreega was taken by Regent Galactic. So many of them had remained aboard, enough to provide Stephanie with her own militia of trained people. They were the backbone of the common crew and in all the reports since he'd had them aboard not one of them complained about accommodations or not being paid immediately. There had been a couple of fights between them and the gunnery crew, but both departments were restless during long hyperspace journeys or when the ship was down for repairs and training. “Take good care of these people,” Jake said to him.

  The soldier nodded. “Yes sir.”

  Jake didn't look back at the rest of the express car passengers as he turned and strode towards main medical. When the door closed behind him he sealed his headpiece. The armoured outer layer slid and chinked together before settling into place. It wasn't protection he was after, it was privacy. “Oz,” he waited until the heads up display in his faceplate came alive with a small image of Oz answering the comm from the bridge.

  “Jake! How is everything going with our new crew members?”

  “controlled chaos. They're settling into the upper and lower aft berths for now and there were profiles on all but two of them so far. Some information is old, but it'll do.”

  “Chief Grady was looking at that, he was surprised at how many of them are career spacers.”

  “I'm not. Slave ship Captains like to take cargo ships whenever they can, implant the crews and put them to work. They only go after spaceliners when they're looking to sell slaves at auction.”

  “I had a feeling you'd seen a lot of this.”

  “I have, but I've never had the opportunity to do anything about it on this scale before. Seeing these people makes my problems seem pretty small . Speaking of problems, I have to bring a couple things up.”

  “Come on up and we can have a seat in one of our unfurnished ready rooms,” Oz smiled.

  Jake walked into the infirmary and stepped into an unoccupied room near the front as he retracted his headpiece. It was like a small hospital right down to the privacy drapes and rooms for two. Iloona approached him before he signalled the door to close. “I'm all right, do you need the room?”

  Her dark and brown fur rippled down her back, a sign of worry that was uncommon for the Chief Medical Officer. Many people had difficulty reading different moods in nafalli, but Jake had gotten used to seeing the broad, narrow muzzled race. She was concerned about how much rest he was getting, he assumed. “No sir. If you're here to see Alice, Ashley and Larry are visiting with her now.”

  “I'll be there soon,” he closed the door as she walked off. He looked down to his control and command unit, Oz was waiting for him to continue. “We're out of money Oz. All my accounts are frozen. Ayan thinks I should make some kind of broad announcement that we're turning pirate, paying as it comes, but I don't know how to handle this. If it were the Samson I'd pull into port, find a short job and tell everyone the money's coming but this is Triton. A third of the crew is armed and there could be riots. Not to mention the other news that's already spreading.”

  “Wheeler's executions.”

  “Right. Some of the people who'll stay on for room, board and the chance to make a difference might bolt at the bounty he's got out on anyone whose served with me.”

  Oz thought for a moment. “You've got a lot of people aboard who are just happy to be on a steady, clean ship that won't run out of power or food. I think your old method might be the best method. Only instead of pulling into port for work we should start looking for marks, so we can take down a supply convoy or hit an Order of Eden outpost.”

  “All right. Have Jason's people start looking for a star system that's against Regent Galactic or the Order of Eden. We'll make port and make it easy for people to leave so we don't end up with riots across the ship when we tell them we're broke. In the meantime, keep your eyes open for people who you can trust. We'll start making a list of people we want close when this goes down.”

  “Good thinking. Maybe we can make one of those Order opposition factions into an ally.”

  “Fat cha
nce, they'd be calling a lot of attention to themselves if they tied themselves with us. I'd rather quietly offload whoever's unhappy with getting paid sporadically without making a big deal of Triton being near their port.”

  “Maybe you should send Ayan. No one knows she's here and from the little I've seen I can tell she's a fair diplomat.”

  “We'll see what Jason comes up with. In the meantime tell Chief Grady to get as many people outside clearing the damaged engine components so we can install the replacements. I want us ready to go as soon as possible. Things are getting complicated and I'm liking this area of space less and less.”

  “I'm starting to agree with you. Anything else?”

  “The Clever Dream's munitions inventory is low. Next time she lands have someone restock her.”

  “I thought we had an inventory tracking system for that.”

  Jake could see Oz bringing up the munitions tracking screen, “This won't be in the record. I rigged a few things on the Palamo personally.”

  “Ah, all right. I'll have someone do inventory when the Clever Dream lands and replenish her stores.”

  “Oh, and get some sleep.”

  “Will do. You do the same.”

  “Someday. See you later Oz.”

  Jake stepped outside and walked towards Alice's private room.

  “Ashley and Larry just left. She brushed her hair,” Iloona's eldest daughter and full time nurse told him as he passed. “She does it once a day.”

  “How is the neural therapy going?”

  Iloona answered from the central nurse station. It was impossible to ignore the fact that the infirmary was made to treat many more people, to be staffed at a much higher level. It always seemed empty, especially with all the rooms cleaned, open and lit. “She's responding but progress is slow. Her personality will most likely be intact but she'll have some memory loss.”

  “When do you think she'll wake up?”

  “Considering the work the therapy is doing, putting her back in control of her body, there's no telling exactly, but I'd say three or four days. At this point I'm satisfied that her chances of waking up are almost one hundred percent.”

  “Thank you Doctor. You'll never know how grateful I am.”

  “As a mother of eleven, I know exactly how grateful you are. Go spend time with your daughter.”

  Jake entered the room. The door closed behind him. She was laid out in a single bed. The pillow was fluffed under her head. Her brown hair flowed down around her shoulders with a healthy sheen. Alice's expression was serene, restful. All the scars from the extreme physical trauma she'd suffered on the bridge of the Triton two weeks before had been corrected. She was in perfect shape other than the stem brain damage she'd suffered.

  He sat in one of the two chairs at her bedside. The lights were dim, shadows played on her face. “I'm back. Looks like things are interesting again,” he said as he retracted the gloves of his vacsuit and took her warm hand in his.

  There were no calluses. It was one of the first things he noticed when they finished surgically rebuilding her hands. It was as though she was brand new again, she'd found a way to be a child after all.

  “Wheeler and Regent Galactic have locked me out of my accounts. I thought they might do something like that, I had a plan, but like Ayan said; the banks were closed on Pandem,” he knew she'd find the humour in the jest and paused as though she were laughing silently. “We saved thirteen hundred and nine slaves today. Some are still on smaller ships, but they're free. The station you guided us to was under attack. We got here in time to save it. I'll have to tell the Station Forewoman you led us here. Maybe he'll remember you.”

  He watched her. There was little chance she'd wake before his eyes, that she'd stir at all, but he couldn't stop looking at her. The steady rise and fall of her chest was slim reassurance. He wanted to pick her up in his arms and gently rouse her awake, but knew it wouldn't help. He forced a smile and kissed her hand. “It's so quiet here. I don't know what it's like in there for you, but the quiet out here is something else. The slaver ship, Palamo, they called it, was so loud, so chaotic. Those people couldn't wait to get off. I think it was falling apart before Minh and his squadron touched it. I wish you had been there. Everyone wanted to touch me on their way by, a few of them spread the word about what I did in the Enreega system. They thought I was there to save them, that the distress call was the only reason I stopped in this area. We were barely able to keep order at first, then they realized we only had so much space on the Clever Dream. Things calmed down once word spread that I'd be getting everyone off the Palamo no matter how many trips it took.”

  “They'll fit in. Most are just happy they don't have to share a bunk with someone. Half their berthing was burned in a fire and the Captain never saw rebuilding as a priority, he just bunked them in shifts. Some of them didn't have shoes. Most are too thin. I think you'd like how things turned out today, even though it started out rough. It all makes my problems with Ayan seem small. I don't know how to pay her or anyone else back for crossing the lower arm of the galaxy to get to me. I've given them everything I can, but it just doesn't seem like enough. It's like the new ready quarters. There are four offices with bedrooms. They're clean, finished but there's no furniture in the offices. Just a little short of the mark. How do I repay that kind of devotion? Oz says he and Jason were in token positions aboard the Sunspire, that Freeground Fleet didn't fully trust them. Laura says she wouldn't be anywhere else, and Jason's happy to be in charge of his own Intelligence Department. Ayan, well, I don't know how to talk to her,” he smiled at himself and shook his head. “You'd laugh at that, I'm sure. If you're anything like me, you'd just say; 'push through it, just say what's on your mind, or start asking her questions. Get her to talk.' Good advice. Hope she feels like talking after our fight this morning. She did it right though. She pushed me until she got something real out of the conversation. I just wish I had said it right.”

  He sighed and leaned on the edge of the bed. “Everything's been so loud ever since I left medical this morning. I didn't realize it until I got back here. Maybe that's all I need, some quiet so everything can fall back into place, like neural therapy. A little quiet so I can rewrite the map in my head a little, make sense of it all again.”

  ***

  The news that two pilots were lost had brought quiet to the Pilot's Den. The holographic leaderboard and highlight displays went unobserved, and the reclining seats arranged in a loose circle were mostly empty. Only three off duty crew members wore simulation nodes on their temples, interacting with some training or practice simulation no one could see.

  Minh welcomed it. He sat alone at a table half way between the reclining seats and the bar with his eyes closed. People glanced at him as they passed by, seeing someone sitting perfectly still with their eyes closed was unusual away from the simulation seating.

  Few people took the time to take a good look at Minh. When Ashley did, from where she sat at the bar waiting for Agameg and Larry, the first thing she noticed was that he wasn't wearing neural nodes or a tap collar. She sipped her cold, clear, carbonated Liquorice Doll, a sweetened liquorice alcoholic beverage as she watched him. He'd escaped her notice until she saw the bartender, glancing at him while he talked to a friend at the end of the bar.

  When she looked over he was sitting alone, his eyes already closed. It was more than she could stand. She couldn't figure out what he was doing and she finally stood and quietly walked to his side. "Whatcha doin?" she asked in a whisper.

  One of his eyebrows sprang up into an arch. "I'm playing guitar," he said slowly, calmly.

  "Oh. So you have a brain bud or a neural implant or something?"

  "No, I'm playing guitar..." he paused to take a slow, deep breath, "...in my mind."

  "So you're imagining it?" she couldn't help but smile. It was the most peculiar thing she'd ever heard.

  "Yup," he answered as one of his eyes popped open suddenly. "You could play drums maybe?"
<
br />   "I don't think it would work. Unless we made noises, but I mean. . ." Ashley offered with a shrug.

  Minh laughed and nodded.

  She couldn't help but notice how his whole face smiled while he was laughing, his eyes, his mouth, it looked like his cheeks were fleeing to his ears under the pressure of his smile.

  "If we were allowed to use recreational sims aboard, I might try to recreate my guitar, but I can't complain about my own imagination. It's a pretty cool place."

  "I could imagine," Ashley agreed. "If you can play guitar there. I've only seen a few people play classical electric."

  "I used to have this really nice replica," he brought up a hologram of his electric guitar on his comm unit. "Ignore the paint job, it's just something I was playing with," he said, referring to the psychedelic radiating ring design.

  "Wow, where is it?"

  "Crushed up somewhere on Pandem, except for these," he pulled a necklace out of his vacsuit and held it out for her. Strung along a simple silver chain were three polished steel tuning keys.

  "What happened?"

  "Crash landed. Not my fault either, there were people after us."

  "Glad to see you made it."

  "I almost didn't. All that was left was the cockpit and the afterburners, but that's why I like to fly a ship with a great big-"

  "Hello Ashley," interrupted Paula. She was carrying a laden tray. She shot Ashley a look heavy with warning.

  "Oh, hi Paula." Ashley looked back to Minh briefly. "It was good to meet you, Wing Commander. I'll see ya."

  "Call me Minh, or Ronin, or something else if you come up with something better," Minh called after her as she turned and strode back to the bar and her drink.

 

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