by PJ Strebor
Fish arrived back at their vehicle at the same time as Nathan. He carried two containers, both sealed air-tight, for the return journey and locked them into the boot.
“Feel like a beer?” Nathan asked.
Around a growing smile Fish said, “Why, Captain, we’re on duty.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Across the road a signed beckoned. ‘Sam and Mae’s’. They stepped into a bar that was cooled by multiple overhead fans. A tad rustic with basic wooden furniture and a bar running the length of the hotel.
“Now this, is my kind of bar,” Fish said.
A large muscular man in his late fifties eyed the newcomers with suspicion.
Nathan slapped a twenty down on the bar.
“I’d like two Oceanian beers, thanks,” Nathan said.
For the first time, Sam, presumably it had to be Sam, smiled. “Oceanian beer? Where do you think you are? The Essen Ritz?”
“What do you recommend?” Fish asked.
“I recommend the only beer we have.”
“Sounds good,” Fish said.
The beers arrived, in large ice cold glasses.
Nathan took an exploratory sip. It wasn’t as bad as he’d feared. He took a deep swallow of the cold sparkling beer, sighing with contentment.
“This isn’t bad at all, Skipper,” Fish said.
“I’ve seen you getting around town,” Sam said to Fish, “but not you.” Sam gestured to Nathan.
“The burden of command,” Nathan said. “My freighter needs maintenance, so we set down at the spaceport.”
“You’re at Ridges? Better watch out for Siegert, he’s a crook’s crook.”
Nathan chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve met him.”
“So, are you the captain?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re kinda young for the job aren’t you?”
“I’m twenty-six,” Nathan said. “And it’s a small freighter. We’re independent traders.”
The barman relaxed and extended his hand. “Welcome to Sam and Mae’s. I’m Sam.”
Nathan shook hands. “Nathan.” He jerked his head. “And that’s Fish.”
“So, how long are you planning to stay?” Sam asked.
“Not sure,” Nathan said.
“Ravensthorp is friendly enough, once people get used to you.”
“Good to know,” Nathan said.
“But every so often we get an unwanted element.” He moved closer and lowered his voice. “PLF.”
“Shit,” Fish said, “those lunatics?”
“Yeah. First time they turned up we didn’t know what to expect. It cost us a lot. Beatings, murders and rape. If you hear a klaxon sound, don’t come into town. It’s our signal for all the women to leave town.”
“Thanks for the heads up, Sam.” He finished his beer. “Time we were getting back.”
“Hey, drop in any time. And bring your crew. All are welcome at Sam and Maes.”
CHAPTER 67
Date: 26th November, 326 ASC.
Position: Planet Spinney. Northern Quarantine Zone.
Nathan stepped into the hangar and examined the scene. Two weeks into repairs and the upper and lower carapaces for the port stealth engine had been expertly repaired so that they looked like new. The blades were proving to be far more troublesome. Precision engineering Tollini had pointed out, took longer. The complete stealth engine housing had been removed from the hull and pieces of it were strewn across the hangar’s floor. Two of the blades had been repaired and Nathan couldn’t detect a single imperfection.
Every entrance to the hangar was guarded by crewmembers carrying pulsar rifles. Nathan had ordered four more crew, dressed in civilian clothing, onto the roof to give warning of any trespassers. This far from town nobody had bothered them.
Approaching the senior engineer, Nathan had the same question in mind.
“Mornin’ Skipper,” Tollini said, turning from his work.
“Good morning, Amos. How’s it looking?”
Tollini pulled a tired face. “You just missed, Captain Okuma, so I’ll tell you what I told her. If we don’t strike any more surprises from the obsolete square head tech, I should be ready to reinstall the engine in a week.”
“I know you’re doing your best, Amos, but every day we spend here increases our chances of discovery.” Nathan sighed. This was Tollini’s show and Nathan’s interference only slowed the progress. “I’ll let you get back to work.”
Tollini nodded while Nathan left and walked up Adroit’s fantail and into the boat. With the exception of the engineering staff the rest of the crew had a chance to get some well-deserved rest. Fish had resupplied them from the nearby town so K pack rations were mercifully struck from the menu. That alone had improved morale overnight.
Nathan stepped into the officer’s mess. As if by mystical clairvoyance CPO Driscoll appeared at the counter.
“Mornin’ skip,” he said, “what can I tempt you with today?”
“Anything but salmonella would be a fine change.” He sighed and shook his head. “Wadda you got?”
“Fish went shopping again yesterday and brought back one of the local delicacies.”
“Until you get your hands on it,” Nathan said. “What’s it taste like. And don’t say chicken you food fucker.”
“It’s a broth that is both tasty and cleansing to the palate. Game?”
“I suppose I have to die of something.”
Nathan took the bowl and joined Moe.
“Good morning, Captain.”
“And to you, Captain,” Moe replied. She had opted for the broth, her bowl half-empty. “It’s truly foul.”
Hmm, that good? The aroma was pleasing and the flavor gave his taste buds a wakeup call.
“So, another week.”
“Plus refit time,” Moe said. “I can’t see Tollini having us ready to fly in under two weeks.” She took another spoonful of broth. “Anything we should be worried about?” she whispered.
“Nope, we’re in the clear.” A spark touched his spine. “Hold on.”
***
Commander Ernst Ryden didn’t like having members of Adroit’s crew posted to his boat, but conceded that it gave his overworked crew a much needed respite from the continuous pressure and murderous duty hours. The Athenians kept mainly to themselves and had proved to be good technicians. With the boat still greatly undermanned, Ryden held down the helm station.
During the battle with Odenwald, Ryden had the briefest of glimpses at the Vogel’s boat. From intell reports on the worlds south of the frontier he recognized it as a Athenian monitor. What business a Athenian boat had doing north of the frontier was anyone’s guess. The Leaguers were fanatical about avoiding an area of space they considered to be plague ridden.
Captain Vogel had assigned E 692 to picket duty. With his boat being repaired Vogel didn’t want to be caught napping. He made a fair point but in the last two weeks no sign of shipping had been detected approaching the far-flung world. The crew was well rested and the supplies topped up so things were finally going their way.
“Commander, contact,” Ensign Willet reported from the Tactical Station. Young but competent Vogel had said of him. “I am detecting hyper-egressions at the inner marker. If they approach at space normal speed they should be within sensor range in seven hours. Nine hours to orbit.”
“They? Be specific, Ensign.”
“They’re too far out for specifics, sir. Best guesstimate, three ships, possibly freighters.”
Ryden set course back to Spinney at flank speed. As soon as he closed to within comm range he contacted Vogel.
***
Nathan’s external comm beeped. “Vogel,” he said.
“Ryden here, Captain,” the Pruessen said. “We have a problem.”
“Go ahead.” I’m surprised our luck has held for this long.
“We have three vessels inbound. They should make orbit within nine hours. Your T-O’s best estimate is that they’re freighte
rs but we won’t know for sure until they get closer.”
“Very well, Commander. Move yourself and Odenwald to the far side of the planet.”
“Done.”
“Good,” Nathan said. “Commander don’t get spotted. If they are who I fear they are, surprise is the only thing that can help us offset the odds. Stay hidden and float the buoy.”
“Ha, already floated. Willet made the same suggestion.”
“Good for Willet. Stay safe Ernst and report to me when you’ve got concrete ID on the ships.”
“Shall do. Ryden out.”
Nathan took a sip of his coffee. It had gone cold. But not as cold as the blood running through his veins.
“How bad?” Moe asked.
“Not good.” He explained the situation.
“What’s your gut telling you?”
“It’s telling me we’re in big trouble.” Nathan rubbed at the bump above his right eye.
“How long?”
“Nine hours,” Nathan said.
“So, got anything in mind?”
“Yeah. Let’s take a walk.”
Ten minutes later they stepped into the office of the repair facility administrator.
“And what can I do for you, Lieutenant Vogel?” Siegert’s smile had disappeared when Nathan sent out an order forbidding anyone from getting within a hundred meters of the hangar. Including Siegert.
“We have three ships inbound to this world,” Nathan said. “Are you expecting company, Siegert.”
His shrug and indifferent smirk made Nathan’s blood boil. He dragged the square head from his chair and pinned him to the wall by his throat.
“Today is the wrong day to fuck with me.” Nathan glared into his eyes. “Who are they?”
“Could be anyone,” Siegert croaked. “I told you before, we’re an open port. Open to anyone.”
“Including the PLF?” Nathan could tell by the delay that Siegert was about to lie. He struck him in the solar plexus. “Did you enjoy that?”
“Asshole,” Siegert said between lips spread thin with pain.
“Oh, I’m just getting started. Are they PLF?”
Again the delay. Nathan pulled back his fist.
“They could be. They drop in semi-regularly to resupply.”
“How are their ships armed?” Moe asked. Again Siegert delayed answering. “How would you like scrambled eggs?”
“Huh?”
Moe glanced at his groin and raised her eyebrows. Instinctively the Pruessen covered his most vulnerable area with his hands.
“I’d answer her if I were you,” Nathan said. “She kicks like a buffalo.”
“I’m not privy to such information,” he said, then held up a hand as Moe moved on him. “But I’ve overheard some crews talking about them taking on cruisers with their ships.” He looked from Moe to Nathan. “They drink, and when they drink a lot they talk a lot. That’s all I know. Honest.”
“You wouldn’t know honest if it bit you on the ass,” Moe said.
“Come on, Moe, we’ve got work to do,” Nathan said.
“All right.”
As they walked from the office Moe turned to Nathan. “She kicks like a buffalo?”
“How would you like scrambled eggs?”
Despite the dire circumstances they shared a laugh.
CHAPTER 68
Date: 26th November, 326 ASC.
Position: Planet Spinney. Northern Quarantine Zone.
The township of Ravensthorp was a dreary little place, a lazy backwater with a slow pace and placid townsfolk.
The arrival of hundreds of PLF crewmen dramatically changed the sleepy township.
Drunken fights would break out in the bars and spill onto the main street. Rivalry between differing ship crews festered and after a sufficient intake of alcohol, brawls took over what little good reason the thugs had.
The town’s female population had fled the moment word came down that PLF ships had assumed orbit. Bitter memories of their first visit to the town had left an indelible image of rape and murder embedded within the townsfolk’s minds. No better than Headhunters, they would take what they wanted and no one would attempted to oppose them if they wanted to keep breathing.
Dressed in casual civilian garb, Nathan observed the ongoing commotion from a discreet distance before returning to the spaceport. Locked within Adroit’s briefing room Nathan weighed his options while considering his strategy. He stepped onto the near vacant bridge and did a passive scan of the orbiting ships. The town was not under surveillance by the PLF warships.
Nathan left the bridge and found Moe and Grace who were outside enjoying the sun.
“Captain Okuma,” he said.
“Captain Telford,” she returned.
“We need to take a trip.”
“All right,” Moe said.
“Is that buggy of yours capable of carrying two?”
“Yeah. Where are we going?”
***
The external inspection buggy sped across the flat prairie, leaving a trail of fine dust in its wake. Nathan hung on for dear life as Moe opened it up to its maximum speed. Finally they reach the rendezvous point, exactly one hundred kilometers east of the spaceport.
Nathan could just make out the landing boat on the distant horizon, skimming across the flat terrain, growing in size as it bridged the distance between them. Nathan and Moe turned their backs to the boat as it set down, churning up a violent dust storm in the process. Leaving the buggy for the return journey they entered the boat. Twenty minutes later they stepped aboard
E 692 and proceeded to the briefing room. As Nathan had requested Commander Ryden had Kellerman and Hoppe waiting for him. Ryden rose from his chair and Nathan waved him down. He gestured to the two non-coms to take seats.
“Commander, how’s the boat?” Nathan asked.
“She’s fully functional,” Ryden said. “The additional crew have helped a lot, Captain.”
“Good.” Nathan turned to the chief of the boat. “Kellerman, your record shows that you were raised aboard a PLF ship.”
He eyed Nathan with caution. “Yes, Captain.” Pain darted briefly across his face. “I managed to escape a month after they murdered my father.”
“Tell me about the PLF.”
“The People’s Liberation Front was founded with high ideals. A resistance movement against the new regime. Help where they could to protect the citizens of Pruessen from the many injustices meted out by the reformation. That worked for a time but gradually changed. Little by little the PLF became ruthless, exterminating any opposition. Absolute power corrupting absolutely.” He shook his head slowly. “Freedom fighters don’t resist an unjust regime by systematically bombing civilian targets whose opinion they disagree with.”
“So, they’ve become mad with power.”
Kellerman nodded somberly. “Crazy as cut snakes, and twice as dangerous, Captain.”
“I can attest to that, Captain,” Ryden said. “I’ve seen the aftermath of one of their attacks firsthand. They are murdering fiends who should be expunged without mercy.”
“I’m glad we see eye to eye about that Commander, because I intend to do some expunging.”
“I like the idea,” Ryden said, “but is it advisable, under the current circumstances. We have only one boat and the enemy vessels are massively armed.”
“I understand your concern, Ernst.” Nathan took a moment to consider his next words. “I could talk about the danger they present to us. How every day they’re here is another day we risk discovery. I could go on about their atrocities and our need to move from this planet, but at the end of the day I couldn’t live with myself if I let these murderous bastards keep breathing. They are an abomination and I want them dead. All of them.”
Ryden nodded.
Nathan stared at Kellerman and Hoppe. “Do you two feel like volunteering for a mission that might get you killed?”
Kellerman nodded while a dangerous smile slithered onto Hoppe’s face.<
br />
CHAPTER 69
Date: 27th November, 326 ASC.
Position: Planet Spinney. Northern Quarantine Zone.
From the side of the hangar Nathan zoomed his monocular in on Siegert’s office. Twice a day PLF personnel conducted business with him. What that business was didn’t concern him. The fact that they were within eyesight of the hangar did.
“Very well, Captain,” Nathan said.
Moe approached the four members of Adroit’s crew. The four most beautiful women on the boat. All of Adroit’s crew wore civilian garb.
“Come now ladies,” Moe said, “you’ve got a job to do, so let’s see a bit more cleavage.”
One of the young women blushed as she undid the top two buttons of her blouse.
“Do we have to do this, skipper?” Ensign Leah Perrie asked.
“I know this is humiliating for you all,” Moe said. “But it will have a decidedly positive outcome, I assure you. Now off you go. And be casual about it, as if you didn’t have a care in the world.”
Ensign Perrie stepped up and led the other three out of the hangar. They stood outside chatting casually. Nathan could sense their fear. Since they were the bait for the next part of his plan they should be. The PLF’s treatment of women was even more appalling than that of Headhunters.
“Come on, come on,” Nathan whispered. Three PLF crewmen finished their business and left Siegert’s office. Heading for their flatbed truck it looked as if they might miss the bait. Then one of them propped in place, his jaw dropping. The others followed his gaze then the three of them headed for the hangar.
Nathan waited until they were within hearing distance before commencing his performance. He strode through the side door and stood in front of the women.
“Are you mad,” he shouted at them. “Get back inside now.”
On cue he ushered them into the hangar and closed the door. Sure enough, within a few minutes someone pounded on the door. He waited until the third knock before opening it.
