Scout's Duty: A Planetary Romance (Scout's Honor Book 3)

by Henry Vogel

  Martin switched to Mordanian. “You are, David. This man will provide protection and, should you require help carrying Tristan’s supplies, will assist with that as well.”

  I looked Orrons up and down. “The man looks to be very heavy, sir. He’ll likely break through the deck of any airship he boards.”

  “Your lad is either a tad slow or is planning something,” Caudill said.

  “Ah, so you do have the translation files I provided up and running,” Martin said, his tone neutral. In Mordanian, Martin added, “You’re not to board the airship, David. Just have Tristan and his supplies brought to you. That should solve the problem of Orrons’ weight.”

  I nodded, waved to Orrons, and left the ship. The walk back to the clearing went much faster than my trip to the ship. That’s because Orrons simply picked me up and smashed through the debris and trees. I hoped both the Tartegian and Mordanian commanders had spyglasses trained on me. This display of power would do more to convince them of the threat posed by the pirates than anything Martin or I could say or do.

  Orrons put me down once we reached the clearing. Happy to be back on my own feet, I looked up at Orrons and waved. “Hey in there! Can you hear me?”

  Orrons nodded.

  “And you can understand me — even better! I need to signal that airship.” I pointed to the command vessel for the Mordanian squadron. “Can you help me with that?”

  With a nod, Orrons picked up a flaming tree trunk and waved it like I would wave a stick.

  A moment later, the command airship descended. Of far greater importance, the Pauline stayed aloft. The last thing I needed was Callan or Megan drawing Orron’s attention.

  The squadron commander was at the bow when the airship came within easy hailing distance. He snapped off a parade ground salute.

  “What can we do for you, Captain Rice?”

  The commander, unaware of the mild deception Martin and I had played on Caudill, had just revealed my actual rank to the pirates.

  Orrons’ armored head tilted down to look at me. Was he reporting this revelation to Caudill? Of course he was. The question was, what kind of reception awaited me when we got back to the spaceship?

  I hid my consternation from the squadron commander. He could not know what Martin and I had done nor had he done anything wrong. The fault lay entirely with me. Had I explained the plan to Callan, she would have told her officers and told them how to address me. I could but hope lives were not lost because of my mistake!

  “We have injured crewmen aboard the spaceship, Captain Subing,” I said. “Please ask Tristan — Dr. Agrilla — if he would come with me to the ship so he may tend to them.”

  Captain Subing saluted again and his ship returned to the squadron. As the airship pulled alongside the Pauline, a mechanical voice issued from the suit. “Explain your deception. Why did you pretend to be subordinate to Captain Bane?”

  The voice spoke in Mordanian, meaning the suit’s translation system now included Martin’s translation files. No doubt, Caudill was asking Martin the very same question. If only I knew how Martin would answer.

  “Captain Bane is fully capable of commanding this mission and accompanied us by royal request. He speaks your language and knows your culture and your habits. A wise man defers to those with superior knowledge. That’s why we had Martin make first contact with you,” I responded. “When he did not return, I knew we must send someone to investigate. I came because I had to see your ship first-hand. Martin has told us of the ship’s power, but seeing is believing. I treated him as a superior so your captain wouldn’t see me as a threat — which I’m not. Now that I’ve seen your ship and that armor you wear, I realize no one on Aashla could possibly threaten you.”

  Orrons nodded but said nothing more. The two of us stood quietly, waiting for the doctor. Fifteen minutes later, Captain Subing’s ship descended again. The crew lowered Tristan’s medical kit, extra supplies, and then Tristan, himself, to the ground. As I worked to free Tristan from the harness, a commotion broke out on the deck above me. Amidst shouted commands from unseen officers, a lithe figure swung over the railing and slid to join us.

  Wearing a wicked grin, Megan dropped the last few feet to the ground. Without a word, she helped me free Tristan from the harness.

  “Captain Subing? Would you care to explain this woman’s presence?” I called.

  “It’s nice to see you again, too, Captain Rice.” Megan’s voice simply dripped with honey.

  “I do apologize, sir,” called Subing. “We had no idea she slipped onboard. She must have crossed to my ship while the men were occupied with Dr. Agrilla.”

  “That’s quite all right, Captain. I’ve been caught unawares by Megan, as well.” I caught Megan by the arm. “Send some men down to fetch her.”

  “Don’t you dare think you can have me manhandled back aboard that ship!”

  “Oh, I dare. I most certainly dare!”

  “No!” The suit’s mechanical voice startled everyone but me. “The woman will come with us!”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Why did Megan have to do this? Caudill had enough leverage over us without having Martin’s girlfriend as a hostage. There had to be a way to keep Megan out of the pirate spaceship. My mind raced, trying to find it. Leave it to Tristan to find the right approach.

  “Do you have any medical experience, young lady? Training as a nurse or anything like that?” Tristan asked.

  “I’m a musician, not a doctor.” With no concept of the situation and the stakes, Megan got defensive. “How much experience have you got with the guitar?”

  “I haven’t played since my wife died.” Tristan met Megan’s challenging glare calmly. “So, definitely no more than forty years.”

  Megan’s eyes widened and her mouth hung slack. I resisted the temptation to reach over and close her mouth.

  “As you’ve no doubt heard, the woman won’t be any help with your wounded crew mates,” I said to Orrons. Looking up to the airship, I called, “Captain Subing, please send down a properly trained airman.”

  Orrons turned his attention on Megan and went still — conferring with Caudill, no doubt — then spoke in a booming voice. “Keep your airman aboard the airship. I want to bring this woman back to the ship and Captain Caudill has given me permission. He wishes to meet her, as well. Uninjured members of our crew will provide assistance for the doctor.”

  Megan flashed a triumphant smile and struck off toward the spaceship. I refrained from calling her an idiot, though God only knows how I managed to do it. Orrons lifted most of Tristan’s supplies and the four of us trudged in silence toward the spaceship.

  After we fought free of the debris and approached the airlock, I gave Tristan and Megan significant looks. “Please remember that none of the crew speak our language. Since Captain Bane comes from their civilization, we must ask Captain Bane to translate for us.”

  Megan gave me a puzzled glance. “But I thought you-”

  Tristan pretended his foot caught on a root. Off balance, he stumbled into Megan and they both tumbled to the ground.

  “Ouch!” Megan yelped, pushing at Tristan.

  He flailed a bit, as you might expect from an old man, and used that as cover to whisper hastily in Megan’s ear. Only then did he manage to push himself up and off of her.

  “I am most sorry, my dear!” he said, offering his hand to Megan to pull her back to her feet. “David, it will be rather awkward if I have to send for Captain Bane whenever I need a translator. Lives may be lost if I must wait for a translator to make my needs clear.”

  “That’s an excellent point, Tristan. It is the first thing I will discuss with both captains when we get inside.”

  Orrons led us to the bridge. Once we stepped through the hatch, I noticed that Caudill’s crew moved to block the hatch. Orrons stepped aside and I realized something had gone seriously wrong.

  Caudill stood behind Martin holding a fully charged blaster to Martin’s head.

  Tr
istan glared at Caudill. “If this is some twisted form of coercion intended to force me to work on your wounded, I assure you it is unnecessary.”

  Caudill listened as the computer translated. “I do not threaten Captain Bane in the vain hope it will make you perform miracles. I trust pride will make you to do your best.”

  Tristan gave a start as the computer translated Caudill’s words into Mordanian. “Then why do you hold a...I assume that’s a weapon?”

  “Yes, doctor, it is a weapon. It crossed my mind that you and your deceitful friend here,” Caudill pointed at me with his free hand, “might take this opportunity to drug my crew and me. Unconscious men are so much easier to capture than conscious ones.” Caudill turned a smile on Megan. “Wouldn’t you agree, young lady?”

  When the translation singled her out, Megan paled and squeaked, “Me? How should I know about these things?”

  “Because it’s one of the oldest tricks in the book. The bumbling but beautiful young assistant — that’s you, my dear — provides a welcome distraction for a crew too long in space. While the crew concentrates on the obvious charms of his lovely assistant, the doctor administers incapacitating drugs to said crew. Didn’t these fine gentlemen tell you the plan before asking you to accompany them?”

  Megan looked back and forth between Tristan and me.

  “Megan,” I said, “not only did I not request your company on this mission, I quite specifically told you to stay on the airship!”

  Caudill shook his head as if in admiration. “Masterful manipulators always make you believe it was your idea, Megan.”

  “Remember who overruled me and insisted you accompany us?” I pointed at the armored figure. “Orrons did, with the added comment that Captain Caudill gave him permission to bring you.”

  “Captain Caudill, what is more important to you — arguing with Captain Rice or seeing your men receive medical care?” Tristan’s stern doctor’s voice cut off whatever Caudill was about to say.

  Anger flashed in Caudill’s eyes. “My crew matters most, of course.”

  Tristan stared down the angry pirate without expression. “Then perhaps you would be so good as to direct me toward your wounded men?”

  “Morrison,” Caudill pointed to a crewman, “will take you to them. Captain Rice will accompany you as an assistant. The lovely Megan will stay on the bridge. Captain Bane and I will be glad of such delightful company.”

  The look on Martin’s face said no such thing, but there was nothing I could do. Megan fidgeted as Morrison helped Tristan and me gather the medical equipment. Her eyes darted around the bridge, perhaps searching for a place to hide. As irritating as her impetuosity was, I pitied her.

  “Orrons told me that you’re a musician, Megan.” Caudill smiled, once again the charming and congenial host. “Perhaps you would grace us with a song?”

  Megan nodded, the jerky movement of someone unsure of what to do. Then, her voice quavering but still beautiful, Megan began to sing. With horror, I realized the song she’d chosen was Rupor’s Lament!

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  As she sang, Megan’s posture straightened and her voice gained strength. Singing obviously calmed the woman. If only it would calm me, as well!

  There once was a prince,

  Handsome and gay,

  Who loved a princess,

  Lovely but fey.

  I could not allow Megan to continue singing this song. The minute she sang the verse ridiculing the story of my arrival on Aashla would be my last. But I could think of no way to stop her without arousing Caudill’s suspicions to the point he would kill me anyway.

  “By all that’s holy,” Martin cried, “I beg you to kill me now so I don’t have to listen to that insipid song one more time!”

  Startled, her face coloring red, Megan stopped singing.

  Caudill looked at Martin, an eyebrow cocked. “From what little I heard, it was but a love song. Do you have a problem with love songs, Bane?”

  “Oh no, not at all. Who wouldn’t love such a song?” Martin sneered. “It’s all about a handsome prince who falls in love with a beautiful princess. But the princess jilts the prince and marries a member of her royal guard. If you’ve got any lovestruck teenage girls in your crew, summon them forthwith! I have no doubt they will love every single sentimental verse.”

  “Fine,” Megan snapped. “If you dislike it so much, I’ll sing something else.”

  Megan’s next song was a traditional ballad with no mention of crash-landed scouts anywhere.

  With the brief dramatic outburst over, Morrison motioned for Tristan and me to follow him. He led us through the ship to a cargo bay which had been adapted to hold the wounded. Close to forty men lay within, some as still as death, others fidgeting and impatient to leave.

  Tristan pointed to three men. “David, please have these men moved to those tables across the room. They’re in the most danger.”

  The computer translated Tristan’s words for Morrison, who frowned. “Four of the men are in worse shape than those three. Start with them.”

  When the computer finished with speaking the translation, Tristan turned a frosty look on Morrison. “Are you a doctor young man?”

  “No, but it’s obvious to anyone who isn’t blind who’s worse off, old man.”

  “Those four men are beyond my help. I will not waste time with them while there are those I can help.” Tristan turned back to me. “Begin triage once you’ve moved those three men.”

  For the next hour, I worked my way through the room, rearranging the wounded as instructed, while Tristan did what he could for those who might be saved. When I finished, I stood and stretched my sore back — and spotted lights flickering against the back wall. Curious, I took a closer look.

  A Space Forces decryption machine — stolen, no doubt — churned through a decryption routine. A metal tube — one I recognized immediately — was connected to it. The tube was the emergency drone I’d launched when my scout ship exited the wormhole.

  Morrison, Caudill’s representative in the cargo bay-cum-sickbay, saw me staring at the decryption machine and emergency drone. “Hey, you! We don’t have any wounded crew over there. What do you think you're doing?”

  I turned at Morrison’s call but dutifully waited for the computer to finish translating his words before answering. “I just saw these things glowing and blinking and got curious. I’ve never seen anything like it before. What does it do?”

  “That’s none of your business. It’s too advanced for a yokel like you and doesn’t have anything to do with medicine.” Morrison pointed toward Tristan’s makeshift surgery. “Now get back to helping the old man with the surgery. I don’t want any of my friends dying because you were too busy gawking at pretty lights to help.”

  “It looks like the doctor has everything under control, but if that’s where you want me…” I shrugged and went over to Tristan.

  “Our gracious host sounded irritated. What was that all about?” he asked.

  “I have no idea, Tristan.” I hooked a thumb over my shoulder toward the decryption machine. “They’ve got a machine over there that has some kind of lights that glow and blink. Morrison says it’s beyond the understanding of a yokel like me. I’m sure he’s right.”

  Tristan raised his eyebrows. “Is that so? Well, if they’re so smart why do they need a yokel doctor to tend to their wounded?”

  That was a very good question — one I hadn’t given much thought to. Any ship this size should have at least one docbot — maybe even a human doctor — plus a plentiful supply of medical nanites. Caudill might want to conserve his supplies, but he’d already lost half of his crew to the inertial dampener failure. The pirate captain couldn’t afford to lose any more crewmen if he ever hoped to fly this ship again. Most of their medical supplies must have been lost along with the men. The transition out of the wormhole would have pulverized those supplies along with the men. That thought got me wondering what other equipment and supplies might have been
lost, as well. Maybe Caudill’s position wasn’t as strong as I had feared.

  Later, when Tristan and I were tending to the last few wounded crewmen, Caudill came to inspect our work. Caudill worked his way through the room, speaking to every crewman who was conscious. When Tristan reported that five of the men probably wouldn’t survive, Caudill bowed his head in sorrow. If he was acting, he did a masterful job of it. Caudill knew how to inspire loyalty in his crew.

  “My men will need food and better accommodations than this cargo bay,” Caudill said to me. “I want to send a message to Prince Rupor and Princess Callan informing them that I wish to negotiate for the care of my men.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  It took all the control I had to keep my expression neutral until the computerized translation ended. How had Caudill found out about Callan and Rupor? I trusted Martin to keep silent and, impetuous and thoughtless as she could be, I doubted Megan would talk, either. Not voluntarily, at least. Had Caudill forced one of them to talk by threatening the other? I’d find out soon enough.

  I had to keep Callan and Rupor as far from Caudill as humanly possible. I played the only card I had. “Tell me what you need, Captain Caudill. I am authorized to negotiate on the behalf of their Highnesses.”

  I longed to speak in gal base. Waiting for translations I didn’t need wore on my nerves.

  Caudill turned an appraising look on me. “I suspect you really could negotiate for one of the countries. What’s the one with the princess?”

  “Mordan.”

  “Yes, Mordan. And the country with the prince?”

  “Tarteg.”

  “Right. Them, not so much, I think.”

  “I’m sure the two kingdoms will work together to take care of you and your men,” I said.

  “I doubt that. You remember Orrons, of course. The man in the big suit of armor?”