Galactic Council Realm 1: On Station

by J. Clifton Slater

  “The clerk also attempted to shoot you,” Merlina reminded me. “Why do you think questioning the man wouldn’t produce results?”

  “He was posted here on the Station for a long time,” I replied, “I don’t think he would know more than his part of the attack. Also, someone had to mark the crate at the grain Station. There was no way to know which crate contained the nutrients until it was scanned. Unless, the crate was marked beforehand.”

  “I shall do a full report including your suspicions to the Druid Elders,” Merlina said, “We thank you for your time and for a resolution.”

  “I wish I had more facts for you,” I said pulling the Druid fighting stick handles from my pocket, “I don’t feel like I’ve earned these.”

  I placed the fighting sticks case on the table. Kegan reach down and with his fingertips pushed the leather case back towards me.

  “We have no more words,” the Druid warrior stated. He and his wife turned leaving me standing. I shifted my gaze between the leather case and the two hooded figures as they glided away.

  The next afternoon some time into second watch, I rolled out of the rack. I was becoming civilian like in my sleep habits and enjoying it. My quarters in the Merchant Fleet hotel were small but comfortable. I planned to spend the day touring the chemical Station before heading out to the Uno Shoda to stand watch. The beeping of my PID changed the plan.

  Captain Xhosa wasn’t happy with the chemical Station. Not with his shorted cargo load and especially not happy with the Shipping Agent. He didn’t spell any of this out in his message. His message simply announced the Clipper ship would be launching during third watch.

  After a shave and shower, I changed into a fresh set of clothes and using my PID, I checked out. As I was shutting the door to my room, the door next to mine opened. Agdta backed out of the room pulling the door closed. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at me.

  “Good afternoon, Mister Piran,” she said with a glint in her eye.

  “Good afternoon Miss Hernan. I trust you had an uneventful evening,” I said. I was referring to the night she was guarded by the Marine couple.

  “I wouldn’t put it that way. No, not in that way at all,” she said in a whisper I could barely hear.

  As she turned to face me, I saw two G.C.M.C. pins on the collar of her suit. Two pins, two Marines, I could only guess. She had indeed had an eventful evening.

  We rode the lift up to the flight deck in silence. Sometimes it’s best diplomatically not to have a conversation.

  On the flight deck we requested a tug to ferry us to the Uno Shoda. I flashed my tag which usually gets results.

  “Sorry Ensign. It’ll take me over an hour to get you and the lady a ride,” the Flight Control Officer said, “Your Captain’s request for an early departure has us scrambling. All of my tugs are busy. I’ll get you a ride as soon as one gets free.”

  Agdta and I sat in the drab waiting room. The air was dry and artificial this close to the air curtains and open space. The Station wouldn’t waste the richer atmosphere in an area where a portion could leak into the void.

  The time went as time goes when two people sit in silence. I was thinking about the attack on the Heart plant and the reasons behind it. Agdta, for the first time I could remember, wasn’t on her PID. She just sat with her eyes closed, humming softly, oblivious to the surroundings. Finally, we were called by Flight Control.

  “I’ve got your ride. Tug CS-420 will be here in five.”

  Through the porthole, we watched as CS-420 slowly latched onto the flexible tube. A dock worker checked the connection and opened the hatch. We bounced along the tube. I’ve been in space most of my adult life but have never gotten used to this type of connection. Only a thin layer of flexing material was between me and the void of space. I was happy when we reached the tug but not so happy when the pilot greeted us.

  “Anybody call for a cab?” he asked as he closed the hatch, “Ready for the tour. We’ll have snacks and refreshments once we’re airborne. You have permission to come aboard, Sir. Please refrain from smoking. Remember that disabling the smoke detectors is a crime against the Galactic Council.”

  I looked at his eyes. The pupils were colorless with almost no white showing. He was on something. Just to be sure, I slowly passed my hand across his face. The eyes tracked my hand with about a two second delay. With reflexes in that state, his flying would be more guess work then professional piloting.

  “Tell you what Ace,” I said as slowly and warmly as possible, “I need to refresh my tug flight time. How about you relax and let me pilot the ship?”

  “Ah man, no can do,” he slurred, “I’m the Captain.”

  Agdta was grinning at me as if I was the guy under the influence. I guess the Clipper crew’s need for amusement was back. The situation would become a story and my actions would either make the tale or disappoint the listeners.

  “Yeah, I’m the Captain,” he said as he stumbled towards the cockpit, “Please prepare for liftoff.”

  People who are medicinally altered typically behave in one of two ways when confronted. One was they meekly go with the flow. The other reaction was violence backed up with enormous strength. In the Marines, I’ve dealt with both kinds. Of course the issue was you don’t know which reaction you’d get. To be safe, you’d go in hard and apologize later. My fingers wrapped around the handle and I only extended one of the fighting sticks. Then, I leaped at the pilot’s back.

  Using the delay in his reaction time, I grabbed and pulled back both of his arms. I figured I had about two seconds before the notion to fight reached his brain. It didn’t take that long to drive the fighting stick in front of one of his arms, thread it behind his back and in front of the other arm. Once his arms were locked behind his back, I jerked the stick up. The force bent him forward and I kicked his legs out from under him. As he fell, I tossed him into a seat. Leaving the stick in place, I hurriedly belted him into the seat. With his arms trapped between his back and the seat and held in place by my fighting stick, the pilot was immobilized. No matter what his reaction might be, he wouldn’t be causing me any trouble.

  Agdta stepped up and looked into the pilot’s face. She studied him for a full minute than backed across the aisle and took a seat.

  “I do believe he’s asleep,” she said sounding disappointed, “Not much of a story.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” I replied as I climbed into the cockpit.

  The access tube dropped away and I set a course for the Uno Shoda. We were about half an hour from chemical Station when another tug dropped out of space. He dove from above and just missed colliding with my tug. It was so close, the cargo tongs protruding from the tug’s nose vibrated.

  “Come on 420, let’s dogfight,” a scratchy voice called.

  “Be advised that you will not buzz this tug again,” I said slowly over the closed network our pilot had opened, “If you do, I will turn back to the Station. I’ll wait for you and beat you until your own mother wouldn’t recognize you. Am I clear?”

  I was worried I’d used too many words or the other tug pilot would take it as a challenge. He flew beside us for a few minutes as if he couldn’t decide what to do. Finally, he turned away and I didn’t see him again. What had Kala called them? Clowns. These tug pilots were worse; they were drunken clowns.

  “Would you really have turned around just to fight that pilot?” Agdta asked. Then after thinking for a moment answered her own question, “Of course you would have.”

  She was standing behind the pilot seat looking through the view screen.

  “I’d like to instill a little ship to ship etiquette in him,” I stated, “But, if he’s in the same condition as our pilot, it would be a wasted lesson.”

  “Hey man can I get a drink?” our pilot called out, “Kind of thirsty, you know.”

  “I’ll get you some water,” Agdta offered, “You want anything Ensign Piran?”

  “What I want is a little information,” I repli
ed.

  After setting the autopilot, I unstrapped and climbed out of the cockpit.

  “So do you get buzzed before every flight?” I asked the still dazed pilot.

  “Sure man, it makes everything fun,” he said as Agdta held a sip bottle to his lips, “All us pilots do.”

  “Where do you buy the stuff?” I asked hoping for a lead into any criminal organizations.

  I hoped for a few names I could relay to the Druids. It wouldn’t be a big stretch from selling illegal drugs to taking a contract to poison a Heart plant. It was the parties to the contract that interested me.

  “Buy it, oh man, you don’t see?” he asked and begin laughing, “You’ve just come from the chemical Station. Half the employees here are chemists. We don’t have to buy, anyone can make a happy pill, a downer, a stay awake, a pick you up, a put you in the mood pill.”

  “Okay, I get it,” I said growing impatient with his rambling.

  Agdta pushed me aside and leaned down to look closely at the pilot.

  “With the abundance of happy pills,” she said in a husky voice, “at the chemical Station, does it get exported, sweetheart?”

  He looked at her and expanded his chest. With as much as freedom as the constraints would allow, he puffed up like a buck eyeing a doe.

  “Sure we do. We put it in the commercial crates,” He bragged, “I do it all the time.”

  “But how would the other Stations know how to retrieve the pills?” she asked softly like she was confused, “There are so many crates.”

  “We mark them,” he explained, “A Z for the pills going out and an X when they send back the Pesetas. It’s a cash only business.”

  She slid onto his lap and wrapped an arm around his neck.

  “So the next time I’m here,” she cooed into his ear, “Who do I see if you’re out in a tug? You know until you get back.”

  “I’ll find you but if I’m on a run,” he paused and looked into her eyes, “You know I really shouldn’t say.”

  “That’s alright,” Agdta said pushing slowly from his lap, “I’m sure another tug pilot will be happy to help a girl out.”

  She strutted a few paced up the aisle swinging her thin hips. It wasn’t an action I’d expect from the demur Navigator. But it held the pilot’s attention and got the right response.

  “Just ask for the Dock Superintendent,” he blurted out, “He’ll hook you up until I get back.”

  “Now I’ll just do that,” she said while winking at me, “I’ll do that.”

  I’d spent a lot of time with the Dock Superintendent. Not once did the man act suspicious or give away any hint of his trafficking in contraband. He’d been the most helpful with Cheeky and the shipping part of our quick investigation. Now I was tempted to turn the tug around and ask him some blunt questions.

  “Captain Xhosa wouldn’t hold the Uno Shoda for you,” Agdta said as if reading my mind, “And you have a date to rejoin the Navy.”

  “Affirmative,” I said agreeing with her then added, “Nice work getting the information from our pilot.”

  “Now it’s a good story,” she said.

  We docked at the Uno Shoda’s flex tube and I sent Agdta ahead. Once she was safety on the Clipper ship, I bent down to unbuckle the pilot. Before he could move I reached behind him and grabbed control with the fighting stick.

  “I’m going to stand you up,” I said into his ear, “If you make any sudden moves, I’ll put you down and send you back on autopilot. Understand?”

  “Yeah man, I’m good,” he replied, “Just let me go.”

  I did by facing him away from the exit hatch. The stick slid out and he began rubbing his stiff arms. While he was busy, I rushed through the hatch and made my way to the transport ship.

  Ide Tadhg, the engineer slammed the hatch closed behind me. I was sprawled out on the fluffy soft padding. Welcome back.

  “What’s got Agdta so tickled?” he asked, “She’s laughing so hard I couldn’t get an answer.”

  “It’s her story,” I said pushing to my feet, “You’ll have to wait to hear how much she’s willing to spill.”

  “For a quiet girl,” he said, “she always has good stories after shore leave.”

  I believed it. But, I didn’t say more as I didn’t have time to engage with the engineer.

  Right now I needed to compose a message for Merlina and let her know about the Deck Superintendent’s shadowy shipping operation. Hopefully, the Superintendent would be available to speak with the Navy Investigation team after his interview with Kagen the Fiery.

  Chapter 21

  The Uno Shoda backed into the cargo sleeve on the fourth hour of third watch. Once Ide reconfigured the connections to the sleeve, the Clipper ship eased away from the chemical Station.

  “What’s our next port of call?” I asked Kala the First Officer.

  She replied after glancing at Agdta and flashing a grin at Xhosa, “The hydroxyl Station, Ensign Piran.”

  “Dare I ask, what does the hydroxyl Station produce?”

  “I’ll field that question,” Agdta said, “although, I think Ide is the expert on its products.”

  “I consider myself somewhat of a connoisseur as well,” Captain Xhosa tossed in, “but you go right ahead.”

  “Half the production is given to the manufacturing of industrial solvents and solutions,” she said slowly then paused for a long time.

  “Okay, I’ll bite. What does the other half manufacture?” I asked expectantly.

  “They attach hydroxyl groups to carbon atoms,” she said as if it was a school lesson.

  “And that is what?” I asked. I’m more brawn then brains, however, I realized the explanation was intentionally specific. The Bridge crew seemed to be enjoying the mystified look on my face.

  “Alcohol, they produce spirits,” Agdta said with glee, “Beers, ales.”

  “Wines, vodkas,” Kala happily added.

  “Cognacs, brandies,” Xhosa said exhaling an exaggerated, “Ah.”

  “Whiskeys, scotches, blended and single barrel, and tequilas,” Ide yelled as he strutted onto the bridge, “Captain, the cargo is secure.”

  “Aye Chief Engineer, Miss Kala Bha, Miss Agdta Hernan,” the Captain ordered, “Please plot a course for the hydroxyl Station.”

  “Right away,” Agdta said still grinning.

  The course was a four evolution plot. The Uno Shoda would travel into deep space then turn to follow a track parallel to the shipping lanes. Those lanes were used by slower vessels like Sloops, Yachts, and Patrols Boats. At a point in space, our Clipper would turn back on course for the hydroxyl Station with a final evolution to get a fix on the Station’s position.

  “Phelan, I’d like that belly gun manned for our turns during evolutions one and two,” Captain Xhosa said, “Even though I can’t imagine another pirate attack.”

  “Captain I was going to suggest it,” I replied, “Because I do think an attack is possible. For reasons that I can’t fully explain, I believe an ambush is imminent.”

  “That sounds ominous,” Kala said as she adjusted the power controls, “Agdta, prep for External evolution, power equalizing.”

  “10 seconds to External evolution,” warned Agdta.

  “Power equalized,” Kala shouted.

  “3, 2, 1,” replied the Navigator.

  The blue ion flow momentarily streaked the forward view screen before becoming a solid sheet of cobalt. There was no snap as the big transport raced away from the chemical Station and towards its first turn point. I waited for a few minutes then headed to the ammo locker to check the drums.

  I was reloading the ammo drums when I felt a thought from the space cat, “Hunt good, hunt sneaky.”

  Looking up, I watched Svana sashay into the bunker, leap onto an ammo crate, curl into a ball and go to sleep.

  “What, nothing else, no explanation?” I asked her out loud. I didn’t expect a reply but maybe a little more of her cat foresight would be helpful.

  I didn
’t expect an animal that hunts giant bugs to produce a research paper on strategy but ‘sneaky’ wasn’t anything I could use. The space cat’s only reply was to swish her tail around once then rewrap it across her curled legs. I want back to checking the ammo and thinking about how to get sneaky with an ambush which by definition means surprise attack.

  “Kala, I need to discuss an idea with you,” I said to the ship’s First Officer as I stepped onto the Bridge, “It’s about our approach to the first turning point.”

  “Sure thing Piran, what’ve you got,” She replied, “As long as it doesn’t violate Merchant Fleet rules, I’m sure the Captain will go along with it.”

  “If there are Pirates waiting for us at the turn, I’d like to do the Internal Evolution way short of the plot point,” I said.

  “We can’t turn short of our registered plot,” she said looking hard at me like any good ship’s officer would when someone threatened to break the rules.

  “We wouldn’t turn early,” I explained, “We just come at the point slowly.”

  “Let me get this right, you want us to drop to Internal drive early and approach the turn point slowly,” Kala said, “Isn’t that counterproductive? Shouldn’t we hit the turn point fast and get out of there as fast as possible?”

  “If a Clipper ship could make a sixty degree turn instead of six ten degree turns, I’d agree,” I explained, “But we can’t, so we surprise the Pirates.”

  I laid out my plan and Kala after a few more questions agreed to take it to Xhosa. He also agreed after even more questions. For the next two weeks, we went over the steps of my plan.

  Chapter 22

  “Prep for Internal evolution,” Kala announced from the command chair.

  Xhosa was at his usual place behind her. He looked over his shoulder and gave me a challenge with his eyes. In other words, I’d better be right.