“What in the name of your diseased ancestors do you think you’re doing?” I screamed at the one leaning against the wall.
“What do you mean?” I think he was completely surprised by my accusation.
“The fight is out there.” I pointed across the barricade. “Which is where we are going. You,” I pointed at him, “are supposed to be guarding this port, not fighting with the crew.”
“No,” he said weakly, “you two were fighting.”
“We were not. We were having a little disagreement, until you two jumped us. Look at this mess.” The sweep of my hand took in the two of them and the medium blasters lying on the deck. “If Carvaho hears about this, he’s going to fry both of you, slowly. Now will you pick up your toys and let us through so we can fight for the ship?”
From the look on the guard’s face, I knew I had him completely bamboozled. Prior to the battle for the Flower, he probably would have laughed at me and called an officer, but now I had real status. Slowly, he picked up his blaster, then helped his partner up. Angel and I stood there watching them, trying to look righteously indignant. When they were both back on their feet, the sore-shouldered one retracted part of the barricade and let us through. No doubt, they were both hoping that we would be shot on the station so they wouldn’t have to see us again. I hoped they would be right about the second part, but not the first.
As we tromped down the connector, I wondered if Jaenna had waited for us. She was, after all, off the ship and armed to boot. I couldn’t have blamed her if she had gone off on her own. In fact, though, she had gone no further than just past the intersection of the connector with the first station corridor. Except for the three of us, the passage was deserted.
“Okay, let’s go,” I said to Jaenna and Angel.
“Where to?” Angel asked.
“To the Flower. It’s all set up, but we have to hurry.”
“You have been busy, haven’t you, Danny-boy?” Angel replied shaking his head.
We set off in a column, me in front, followed by Jaenna, with Angel bringing up the rear. Just a few hours before, those corridors had been thronged. It was spooky to see them empty. We saw the first signs of action when we turned into one of the station’s wide main corridors. These were the routes that connected the satellite hubs. They were wide enough for twelve to walk abreast, with space between. The ones connecting the main centers were even wider. The usual cacophony was absent; the corridor echoed hollowly with our footsteps and was almost devoid of activity.
It wasn’t deserted, however. Not more than thirty yards from where we turned into it, a strongpoint had been built out of furniture and pieces of shielding. The Srihani manning it wore gray with the Tetragrammaton insignia. Station security. There were five of them, six if you counted the one with the burn hole through his forehead who sprawled across the barricade on his back. A half-dozen bodies dotted the floor of the corridor on both sides of the position.
They were not happy to see us. From the moment we appeared, there were five blasters trained on us. I thought about ducking back out of the corridor, but since they were covering us rather than firing, I decided to play innocent. I holstered my blaster and saw Jaenna and Angel follow suit. Then, empty-handed, I walked over to the barricade.
The leader was a tall, thin Srihani with a face that said he had seen it all before. I couldn’t think of a brilliant opening line, so I settled for the galactic equivalent of “Howdy.”
The Srihani looked at my tunic and said only, “Carvalho’s.” It was a statement, not a question.
I nodded my assent and waited for him to say something else.
“There is a curfew in effect for all outside ships’ crews.” The scene around his position indicated that he had already been doing some enforcing. His voice suggested that he would be just as happy not to do any more.
“We have no quarrel with the curfew,” I said quickly. “We’re supposed to be on the Flower of Rianth now, the port was unsealed today and it needs extra guards. If you can tell us a clear path to the berth, we’ll be more than happy to avoid any fighting.”
He took a long look at Jaenna’s hooded form before deciding that he was not curious.
“You should not have a problem if that is your intent. The only active fighting now is down in the bulk-cargo transit area for the inner worlds. If you take this corridor to the branch corridor to the next berthing area, you should be all right. Just make sure you get off this corridor before the next checkpoint. They won’t hold their fire.”
I thanked him for the advice, aware that he fully expected us to head straight for the action once we were past him. It was also likely that he was warning us off the corridor more to spare his mates a possible fight than from any concern for our hides.
He gave a hand signal to the rest of his group and motioned for us to pass. Their blasters followed us as we walked by, but they didn’t hinder us. I noticed that one of the bodies I walked past was from our crew. The others were a variety of tunics and insignia. I had to suppress a shudder. I had murdered one Srihani myself as part of the escape, but that was an ugly necessity I had prepared for. The full cost of my diversion, however, I hadn’t considered. I was sure Ruoni wasn’t surprised, but I was raised differently. We saw one other body en route to the Flower. It was a Srihani wearing the insignia of a kvenningar I didn’t recognize. There were multiple blast wounds in the back. I wondered how many others had taken advantage of this fighting to settle private scores.
You can be sure that I was ecstatic when we reached the Flower’s berth and found the port open and Ruoni and another Srihani standing in the opening. It had never left my mind that Ruoni might have decided to leave on his own.
“Greetings, Captain Danny,” he called. “I was becoming concerned.”
Captain Danny, huh? It was something I could learn to live with. “Not half as concerned as I was,” I replied.
Ruoni let it pass. Instead, he visually checked over Angel and Jaenna.
“You mentioned a cargo.”
“I did. I’ll tell you about it later. Right now, I’d like to get to the bridge and get this thing started.”
“As you say.” Ruoni tipped his head to me, then turned to the other Srihani. “Button her up, Yarymano. We have everyone.”
Ruoni had to be bursting with curiosity, but he stayed quiet until we reached the bridge. I saw not another soul on the way there. The bridge itself was sparsely populated by three Srihani who stood when I entered.
“Captain Danny a Troy, may I introduce your bridge crew?” I did not need to answer Ruoni’s question. “Andrave a Garn will handle Communications and Damage Control, Stuoronin a Harni, Helm and Navigation, and Cardoni a Avor, Support Systems.” He indicated, respectively, a blond, young Srihani, a bearded one with a badly scarred cheek that the beard couldn’t hide and a whipcord-thin Srihani with a dark complexion and orange hair. “Ivengar will run Engineering from the main engine room and I will handle Fire Control, although we had best not need it right away.”
“Thank you, Ruoni.” I felt like I’d run onto the field as a rookie replacement. It seemed appropriate to introduce my companions. “Angel is from Carvalho’s Strike Force and from my own world. Jaenna a Tyaromon is from Kaaran and was Carvalho’s prisoner. Tyaromon won’t pay ransom, but he will pay handsomely for her safe return.” All right, so I lie like a rug. This was a white lie, which I might be able to make true. The odd looks Jaenna was attracting convinced me that there had to be an immediate explanation. I saw Jaenna start momentarily, then regain control of her features. No one else noticed. Better yet, they seemed to find my explanation satisfactory.
No one seemed interested in asking questions of the new pirate captain, so I walked over to the command chair and seated myself. It was impossible to avoid noticing the blood stain left by the former captain on the seat, however, there was nothing to do but sit on it.
“Andrave,” I said, “please contact the station master so we can leave.”
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br /> The young Srihani didn’t question my right to give orders. He simply obeyed. From where I sat, I could see him speak at an image on the small screen in front of him. I was expecting Andrave to find the appropriate officer and then turn the conversation over to me. It was a shock when, after a brief discussion, the youth looked up and announced, “We are cleared, Captain. The docking tube will be withdrawn momentarily.”
Chapter 10
My pleasure at the ease of our departure was almost immediately overtaken by a bad case of the shakes. The station hadn’t cared who was on board. The simple fact was that Ruoni could have taken off with no trouble at all. Even though I was safe on board, the realization of the chance I had taken stunned me. I looked over at Ruoni to find him gazing steadily at me. Surely, he knew what I was thinking. For a change, he spoke before I did.
“I was honored by your trust, Captain Danny,” he said. “I was not about to betray it.”
I hadn’t really trusted him. It just looked that way to Ruoni; he knew that no safeguards existed. Therefore, I must have trusted him. It didn’t seem like a good idea to correct him.
Instead, I commented dryly, “I would have thought they would watch the ships more closely.”
“Why?” he asked in reply. “The only empty ships are prizes or for sale. I’ve never heard of a crew member stealing his captain’s prize by paying off the docking fee and starting a small war to pull away the guards. Everything else is stolen, but not starships. Anyway, why should the station care? Their fee was paid.”
“Until they realize that I paid it by borrowing against my credit based on my share of this ship.”
At first Ruoni looked astonished, then he doubled over laughing. Damn near fell out of his seat. His laughter was cut off by a shudder running through the ship.
“Helm is free,” Stuoronin announced. “What is my destination?”
That depended on what we needed more, repairs or crew. It was a decision I needed help with, and Ruoni, having worked on the ship, was the best one to ask. He didn’t hesitate in giving his answer.
“I said that we could make one transit for certain and I think we should give priority to filling the crew. As few as we are, we will probably fail before the ship’s systems do. With a full crew, we can see about getting repairs. We’ll need both if Kaaran is our ultimate destination.”
“I agree. Do you have a place in mind?”
“Thjonarodni would be good. I think we can make it there.”
I didn’t know Thjonarodni from a hole in the ground, but that would have been true of almost any planet he named. “Thjonarodni it is then. That’s your destination, Stuoronin.”
The burly Stuoronin acknowledged with a quick tip of his head and began instructing the computer. Slowly, the Flower pulled away from Tetragrammaton station and turned toward deep space. The entrances to the wormholes all lie far from major gravitational wells. Even with Tetragrammaton station set around one of the outer gas giants in the system, as most major stations were, it was going to be a two-day run at top acceleration to the wormhole we wanted. Two days in which we could still be overtaken and forced back to the station. It wouldn’t take much force to bring us back, either. Not with a damaged ship and a skeleton crew.
Our one real advantage was the disarray caused by the fighting on the station. From the news Andrave was able to glean, it seemed that a large portion of Carvalho’s crew had been interned, along with other combatants. It would be difficult, maybe impossible, for him to leave quickly. Also, I could hope that Carvalho thought the Flower’s port was still sealed even if his guards were in the pokey. It might be a while before he even thought of the Flower.
We would need all the advantages we could get because the Flying Whore was much faster than the Flower. Stuoronin guessed that we needed a full day’s lead to be certain of staying out of firing range and entering a wormhole far enough ahead of Carvalho that he would be unable to determine what system we were heading for and, therefore, be unable to follow us down the wormhole. What we didn’t worry about was intervention by anyone else. There was precious little law in the Outer Empire and none of it applied to stealing from a freebooter.
Andrave picked up evidence that Carvalho cut loose a day and a half later, too late, at least by our calculations. He may not have realized that, or he may have been hoping for a breakdown on the Flower. He gave chase. Even knowing we couldn’t be caught, it was uncomfortable watching Carvalho’s ship on the screens, steadily closing the distance separating us. We had no relief crew on board and no one was willing to trust the ship to automatics long enough for a real break. I prayed long and hard that there would be no breakdown, especially after Carvalho started beaming offers to my crew concerning various body parts of mine. Big as the galaxy was, I decided it would be worth some extra effort to ensure that I never met Carvalho again.
The entrance to the wormhole looked like any other bit of vacuum. The stars looked the same as they had from the station. I’m not sure what I expected—a flashing neon sign, maybe. Stuoronin’s instruments were not as limited as our senses, however. They told him precisely where the topology of space had created a sinkhole that could be used by a ship that could generate the field needed to interact with the wormhole. Elsewhere, the screens showed Carvalho, behind and still closing, but still too far away.
“We are ready for transit,” Stuoronin said. Since he normally wore a beard, he didn’t look as haggard as the rest of us, but it showed in his voice. It had been two days with only one, minuscule, break for each of us.
“As soon as possible,” I said. He didn’t reply to me, only to the computer.
“Transit on the count of sixty-four.” The countdown appeared in green on the screen.
Please hold together, I prayed silently. Either that, or come apart with a big bang. Anything but a failed transit that would leave us as meat for Carvalho. When the countdown reached thirty-two, the familiar pre-transit whine began to build up. At sixteen, though, I felt a vibration in the ship, something I didn’t remember from my transits with Carvalho. Stuoronin said nothing, but I could see his lips were pressed together so tightly they were white. At four, green lights appeared on his board. The whine continued. At zero, the vibration stopped abruptly and the screen went black.
“Down the wormhole!” Andrave said with satisfaction. “The pursuit is too far behind to determine our course. We’re clear.” Then he said, “Engineering reports numerous noncritical malfunctions. We can fly though.”
“Good. Stuoronin?”
“It will do,” he said. I could see that he was unhappy with the way his board looked, but as long as it indicated nothing catastrophic, I was satisfied.
Bad as the run to the wormhole had been, the three-day transit was far worse. We were already exhausted when the transit started and, even though some relief was possible with the ship out of normal space, the ship wasn’t doing too well. Ruoni and Andrave could spell Stuoronin and Cardoni since we didn’t need either Fire Control or Communications, but Stuoronin could take only brief breaks; neither of the others could adequately handle his job. Ivengar and the others in Engineering had it even harder. With all those malfunctions, critical or not, they had no rest at all.
In theory, it shouldn’t have been so hard on me. With the ship in a wormhole, I was about as essential as tits on a bull. I could have rested. The idea of taking it easy while the others struggled along without sleep didn’t sit well, however. As a result I stuck it out on the bridge with the rest of them, in spite of Ruoni’s protestations, growing just as tired and cranky. In retrospect, it was a poor choice. There would be decisions to be made when we popped out and the crew deserved a captain fit to make them. We were lucky that my foolish pride didn’t cost us anything.
Although I wasn’t sleeping any more than anyone else, I did check around the ship a few times, just to see how the others were doing. Once, I ran into Angel in an otherwise deserted corridor. I asked him if he still liked the smell of my karma.
>
“I like it fine, man,” he said laughing. “We got our own ship. We got away clean. What’s to complain? I’m even getting used to that chick you brought along.”
“You mean Jaenna?”
“There’s another one?” Angel whacked me on the shoulder for emphasis. “Tough little chick that one turned out to be, not princessy at all. You need something, she’ll get it. Want help, just show her what to do. Ivengar’s had her running ‘round the Engine Room and Support Systems almost nonstop.” Angel gave a belch, which I took as a sign of approval, then continued. “She’s actually kinda cute too, allowing for no makeup and stuff.”
I was pleased that having Jaenna on the ship wasn’t causing any problems, but at Angel’s last sentence I went cold.
“Angel, for Chrissake, remember the situation we’re in. If your balls itch, try a cold shower. The last thing we need is trouble on the ship.”
At first, Angel looked confused. Then he smiled. “For Chrissake, yourself, Danny. She’s cute like my kid sister’s cute. You don’t worry about me on that score. I’m waiting ’til we get back to one of those trading stations with those Imperial ladies with the big tomatoes.” Angel grinned maniacally at the thought and swatted me again on the shoulder, this time hard enough to leave a bruise.
Then he sauntered past me then, whistling “My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean.” If we ever get back to a station, I thought, Angel can have all the “tomatoes” our money would buy.
“We are in the Thjonarodni system,” Stuoronin said when we came out of the wormhole.
Space looked just the same as when we went in. The only visible difference, thankfully, was the absence of Carvalho’s ship chasing us. You needed instruments to know that we had moved thirty parsecs.
“Yes, Thjonarodni.” There was a lack of enthusiasm in Ruoni’s voice.
“You thought we could hire a crew here, didn’t you?” I asked. “Is there a problem?” Space around Thjonarodni looked quiet. That was lucky, given our condition.
My Life: An Ex-Quarterback's Adventures in the Galactic Empire Page 12
