“We have many smart builders,” Shozo said. “If you’ll allow the Lorander to stay and watch, I will agree to this.”
Ayan looked to her father. “I’m the hold out vote, aren’t I?”
“You’re the most important authority here,” Carl said. “You technically own Haven Shore and most of our significant territories. You have the first and final word here.”
“You would agree to this though, if it were up to you,” Ayan said.
“With one provision,” he said. “You leave a significant Lorander ship here for ten years to observe and your corporation is barred from any aggressive act in the system. Hide it, leave it in the open, it doesn’t matter. You supervise and watch what we grow here. Your people can visit our facilities like any other traveller.”
“Observation, trade, and no military interference. I think Shozo is a little happier with that, having a Lorander ship in the system for ten years instead of a month,” the First Minister said. “I don’t think I’ll be allowed to extend my stay any longer than what I promised, but I will personally choose which ship remains behind.”
“Yes, that makes things much better,” Shozo answered. She looked directly at Ayan and said, “I’d like this to work. My people need a home, and other prospects are far away, desolate. They all agree that the Order war is too devastating as well. Being responsible for taking the first steps towards peace is exactly what we need to turn away from our violent past.”
There was no mystery to why Clark Patterson sent Shozo. Turning her down was tantamount to kicking a litter of kittens; she knew how to appeal to people and pull heartstrings. The agreement would bring more workers, diversity, and a Lorander presence to the area. Not to mention the thought of having their own portable Lorander repair and construction facility. Her father would be in charge of operations on Tamber, close to the situation. He would minimise the risk surrounding the deal even further. “I can’t say no,” Ayan told Shozo. “Let’s repeat the details for the record.”
CHAPTER 51
The Cargo
The Sunny Shifter was the newest ship Remmy had ever set foot on. The vessel was less than five weeks old, and besides the tampering his team had to do to get control and a few signs of a fire-fight, it was pristine. White, dark green, and silver tinted metals surrounded them as he and Bell Dul came to the reinforced airlock leading to the long cargo train.
“What strikes me as odd is how fresh the cargo train looks,” Bell said as they looked at the access panel beside the airlock hatch.
“I was thinking the same thing,” Remmy replied as he took a pair of slender data spikes out of his sleeve. They were made of hardened metal, had a conductive core and intelligent microscopic interface links on their ends. “I’ve never seen a cargo train with all new containers. We know there’s some heavy machinery and rare supplies way in the back, but you can transport that stuff in any old box.”
“Is that how you’re getting in?” Bell asked as she watched Remmy tap one of the slender data spikes into the panel beside an old fashioned number key.
“Yup. I couldn’t find out who is in those stasis pods in the first thirty cargo cars, and I couldn’t crack the panel, so we’re going to have to carefully trick the system into thinking the panel is damaged. An emergency bypass circuit will take over that won’t stop us from cranking the door open manually.”
“How’d you figure that out?”
“I read the manual,” Remmy said as he tapped in the second spike. He waited for the rods to connect with the electronics inside and smiled as a schematic appeared on his comm unit. “Voilà. Just like I figured, this fancy new security system is using the cheapest method to block the manual lever for the airlock. It’s just a software block; if we were coming at this door from outside the ship, it would be impossible to break through this way, but since we’re inside, and the mechanisms are all right here…” He commanded the spikes to emit a charge and the old-fashioned keypad sparked and died.
The sound of a latch releasing filled the cabin. “Was that the manual control unlocking?”
“Yup,” Remmy said, glancing around. “We’re looking for some kind of small access hatch.”
“Wasn’t that bit in the manual?” Bell asked, searching.
“That part of the translation wasn’t exactly clear,” Remmy said.
“Any word on how Captain Valent is doing?”
“I shouldn’t tell you anything, but let’s just say that Alice is holding together really well, considering,” Remmy said. He knew Minh-Chu moved Captain Valent into the medical bay aboard the destroyer, but that’s all he could do. Until they arrived in the Rega Gain System, Jacob Valent would remain in stasis, and no one could be sure of his chances. Remmy, like most of the crew, saw Captain Valent as an indomitable man. Blocking his status for all but officers was the right move, especially since their captain was in the territory of last hopes and desperate acts. “It’s pretty dire, things could go either way, but there’s no way of knowing for sure until we’re home. You didn’t hear that from me, and you won’t share it.”
“Gotcha. Wish I could know more, though,” Bell said. “Oh, the panel is up there.”
Remmy looked straight up and snickered. “You’re taller, you open it.”
Bell Dul pressed a small rectangular door and it popped open, revealing a pump handle. “Pull?”
“Yup, pull and push until the system builds up enough pressure to open the door.”
She followed the instructions and after pumping the handle a dozen times the airlock door slid all the way open in a sudden swish. “Would it have been faster to just blast the security panel? I mean, instead of using those spikes?” she asked as they moved into the airlock.
“Sure, but Moira might be a little pissed if we started blasting the refinements on her ship for no reason. Those spikes only damaged a tiny circuit, a skitter could repair that in five minutes.”
“Ah, I guess I’m just too used to running and gunning,” Bell said.
“I’m not complaining, there’s nothing wrong with running and gunning when you’re in a hurry,” Remmy said as he opened the next panel and invited Bell to pull the next lever.
She pulled it once and the door behind them closed. One more pull opened the airlock hatch leading into the cargo cars. “That was quick.”
“Just had to move the pressure from one door system to another,” Remmy said. “Hacking through a brand new ship’s systems when you’re in transit is so much fun.”
“Older ships are harder?” Bell asked.
“Older ships have modifications and unexpected improvements,” Remmy said.
“Right, that makes sense. I get the feeling you’ve captured a few ships before this one, yeah?” Bell Dul asked.
“Not too many, just a really dangerous one. I’ll tell you about the Sunspire sometime.”
“The Freeground ship?”
“Yup, that was my first really big hack,” Remmy said. He momentarily recalled the mission he joined Clark Patterson on to retake the Sunspire, and the sounds of the other boarding team dying as they ran into the ship’s merciless defence systems. “You may have to buy me a few drinks to get that story out of me, though.”
They walked into the first cargo car to discover a large, semi-circular control console. The interior lights activated, filling the space with bright white light. Stasis pods were mounted in four rows for the length of the storage car, and there was a stable environment. Remmy noticed several worm-like sterilization bots along the deck as they made their way around the stasis pods destroying contaminants. They were harmless, with no artificial intelligence, but he knew if he was seeing a couple right away there would be more in the cargo train. “You don’t spend this kind of money to transport slaves.”
“No kidding, all these stasis pods are new, state of the art,” Bell Dul said, looking through the transparent lid of a pod mounted on the hull to their right at a golden haired young man. “These aren’t liquid stasis pods, they’r
e the cushy independent environment dry models. I remember wishing I could afford that when I was coming out of liquid stasis.”
“Why were you in stasis?” Remmy asked as he accessed the console. As with the door, the captain’s control codes didn’t work. He checked for biometric security, and smiled after seeing that no one had activated it. With a chuckle, he started punching in the five most common passwords.
“I was a kid, don’t really remember where we were coming from, but it was a long trip, and my family couldn’t afford the food and air charges, so we went into stasis.”
“Not fun, I’m guessing,” Remmy said as he punched in a sequence of numbers from zero to ten.
“I don’t remember much more than coughing up that fluid and finding gummy stuff in my nooks and crannies for days.”
Remmy stared at the console in shock as it unlocked and laughed. “Really? No one bothered to change the password?”
“Why? What was it?”
“Admin,” Remmy replied. He sobered a little as he read the available commands. “Oh, that’s why. Each pod is controlled individually, some are locked, and the container controls are all set up on the bridge. This console isn’t exactly the key to their security.” He downloaded the manifest from the terminal and turned to the nearest unsecured stasis pod. It contained a well-muscled man with a rifle. “This guy should know something.” Remmy activated the revival system and drew his sidearm.
Bell Dul trained her rifle on the man as the stasis pod hood raised and moved out of the way. “Wow, quick revival sequence.”
“Yup, the deluxe model,” Remmy said as he pulled the man’s heavy rifle out of the stasis pod and stood it up against the railing beside him. “I’ll be having that, thank you.”
The square jawed man drowsily opened his eyes at first, then they snapped open and he searched for his weapon. “Terrorists!” he shouted as he leaned forward.
Bell Dul bashed him across the face with the butt of her rifle, more than hard enough to knock him back into his stasis bed.
“Whoa, whoa,” Remmy said. “We’re just asking this gentleman a few questions, then we’ll put him back to sleep for the rest of the trip.”
“You’re traitors to humanity, and you’ll get nothing from me!” said the man.
“Okay, so it says here your name is Curtis,” Remmy said, reading information from the manifest on the comm unit. “So you’re from a corporate training camp on Kaney, probably contacted by Regent Galactic to train soldiers for the Order, yes?”
“What?” Curtis asked, appalled.
“It’s okay, don’t tell me anything, your personnel file is open now that you’re awake. It says here you’ve been with the Order for two years? That can’t be right.”
“Under the Child Prophet! May his memory inspire the galaxy!”
“Wow, they got you programmed good,” Remmy said, scrolling through the summarized personnel file on Curtis Mahanon. There was little information about him, other than his rank, basic health information, origin, and destination, but he didn’t have to tell Curtis. “So, you’re in charge of all these other soldiers? Says here you’re a major.”
“This is a colony transport, you idiot!” Curtis shouted, glancing wide-eyed at Remmy then Bell.
“Say it, don’t spray it,” Remmy said. “So most of the people here are civilians.”
“True pledges to the Order, don’t you dare put your unclean hands on them!” Curtis shouted, leaning forward again. Bell Dul raised her rifle and took aim at his head, and he settled back.
“Okay, so you’re a whole serving of crazy with a side dish of delusional,” Remmy said. “I think we have everything we need for now, good night,” he said as he reached to reactivate the stasis pod. “This was all a dream. Just sit back and-“ Curtis moved so quickly that Remmy couldn’t get out of the way of a sucker punch. His suit detected the strike and activated his helmet just in time.
Bell Dul fired her rifle, ruining Curtis from the neck up.
“Wow,” Remmy said, looking at the steaming corpse. “Absolute overkill.”
“Sorry! I’m still punchy from this boarding operation.”
They watched the stasis pod finish closing. “And I though I was just starting to make a connection with the crazed Order of Eden soldier,” Remmy remarked as the pod started to flash red.
“Sarge, do you have a minute?” his second in command, Dotty, asked over his communicator.
“Yeah, I’m not getting anything else out of this guy. Oh, and don’t call me Sarge. I keep picturing a thick, cigar chewing drill Sergeant whenever you do.”
“What’s a cigar?” Dotty asked.
“That’s it, I’m putting on an ancient war movie night as soon as we get back to Haven Shore,” Remmy said, throwing his hands up. “What’s up, Dotty?”
“We thought we saw movement on the Warlord’s hull, so we scanned, but didn’t pick anything up. We left the scanners focused on the dorsal aft quarter anyway, and now we’re picking up a heat signature.”
“Two days into wormhole transit and we find a barnacle? What does it look like?”
“We had to move a little when we started the deceleration sequence, I guess we couldn’t get a good scan before. It doesn’t match anything on file,” Dotty said.
“Does the Warlord know we’ve found something strange on their hull?” Remmy asked, checking the communications logs.
“I wanted to talk to you first but I didn’t want to interrupt you while you were interrogating that soldier.”
“Send them your sensor logs and all your readings,” Remmy said. He opened an emergency channel to Alice.
CHAPTER 52
Her Reluctant Majesty
Ayan’s first experience with public speaking was a nervous and frustrating affair. Appealing for the right to own everything her predecessor, the first Ayan, owned in her lifetime in front of the top lawmakers in the Freeground Nation was nerve crushing. The speaking engagement she was about to undertake seemed bigger somehow. As she waited for Lacey, Oz, and her father in a room adjacent to the unfinished Council Chamber, she fought to control her anxiety, taking deep, slow breaths.
“Something came for you,” Lacey said as she carried an absurdly long white box through a side door and put it on the table. “From Patrizia Salustri. It seems she’s back now that the Carthans are packing it in.”
“That makes sense,” Ayan said. “She probably found a way to get into trouble after the battle of Port Rush. We’ll have to keep our eyes on her people.”
“We scanned it,” Carl Anderson said as he entered the room behind Lacey. “It’s a dress, with a few auto-tailor mechanisms.”
“It’s not like she’d send a bomb,” Lacey said. “Unless there’s something I don’t know about.”
“No,” Ayan said, recalling Patrizia’s very traditional language and her engaging manner. “She’s tried to get close to me before. That lion head ring you saw a while ago was from her.”
“Oh, so she’s after a spot in your good graces. Well, in that case, open it up,” Lacey told her. “I can’t wait to see what kind of dress requires a body length box.”
Ayan glanced at her father who was sitting down on the bare frame of a sofa. It was as much of a reminder that Haven Shore still wasn’t quite finished as the incomplete Council Chamber. “We’re waiting for Oz, anyway.”
Ayan pulled the edge of the top flap covering the box. The cover became flexible and rolled into the top of the box, revealing a full-length dress that was slit up the sides, with ornately patterned, weaving cut outs that were narrow and sparse along the sides. The pattern was wider and more concentrated on the front and back of the dress, teasing obviously with more bare sections. The white colour was accented by platinum lines that climbed the length like tiny branches following the curves the dress was made to celebrate, culminating in a high collar that emanated a gentle warm glow from a hidden light source that would compliment Ayan’s colouring. The long, ornate sleeves and underside of the
dress were all lit from the inside as well.
There were boots, a neckpiece and tiara made of platinum branches as well, and Ayan was struck speechless. The entire outfit was laid out with a hologram of Ayan inside, her expression looping an inviting, sly wink.
“Oh, that’s beautiful,” Lacey said.
“I feel like I’m on display and I’m not even wearing it,” Ayan said, laughing nervously.
Oz came through the side door and gave Ayan a squeeze before looking into the box along with everyone else. “That’s what Patrizia Salustri sent?” he asked. To Ayan’s dismay, he seemed impressed.
“Yup, there’s a message too,” Carl Anderson said as he stood up and took a small card from the box. “I think you’d look stunning in that too, by the way. You’re right though, it is revealing,” he said, clearing his throat.
Ayan took the small white card and unfolded it. A projection of Patrizia Salustri in a long, slinky dress of her own appeared above the box. “Che piacere vederti, I have great sorrow for the time I had to spend away from Tamber, amongst the society of the spoiled on Kambis, but the Carthans were not friends to me,” Patrizia Salustri said, her old Italian accent stronger than ever. “I have so much gratitude for how you removed them from our skies, and hope this gift brings you and the people you love some joy. I am looking forward to the speech you will give; many people around the Rega Gain star are too. I think that seeing you dressed this way will be enchanting to them, and no one will doubt that you are their Majestic Queen. If you do not wear it, I will not hate you, but you must show it for me soon. Non vedo l’ora di vederti.”
“Is there a translation for that last bit?” Lacey asked as the image of Patrizia Salustri faded.
“It means; I look forward to seeing you,” Oz replied, looking at his comm unit. “But the translator notes that her inflection is inferring affection and insistence.”
“She mustn’t speak common English much. But it sounds like she’s bringing her organization back to Tamber. Looking forward to it, Ayan? I’ve never seen you blush like this before,” Lacey teased.
Randolph Lalonde - Spinward Fringe Broadcast 08 - Renegades Page 41
