He Who Dares: Book Two (The Gray Chronicals 2)

by Rob Buckman

  * * * * * *

  The two bursts he’d seen were 500 GW at least, suggesting a Destroyer or light Cruiser at least. He was armed, but you can’t fire at something you can’t see. His tech office kept swearing there wasn’t a ship there. If that was true, where had the plasma fire come from? The airlock cycles, and an amazing sight met his eye. A group of eight people stood in the hatchway, dressing in an assortment of colorful clothing, and all armed to the teeth. Even if he’d thought about putting up any resistance to the boarding party, the sheer firepower they carried put a stop to that. Some of the weapons could put a hole right through his hull.

  “I’m Captain Bear, are you the Boss of this ship?” A tall, blonde haired young man stepped forward, waving a blaster around as he did. One look told the Suritan that the safety was off and he blanched a sickly shade of green.

  “I am the Suritan of this ship, what do you want!”

  “A little more civil tone in your voice for a start, lizard!” Captain Bear snapped, prodding the Suritan in his ample stomach with the business end of the blaster.

  “I’m sorry, but I do not speak angelic very well,” he lied, “it could be that I have mistakenly used the wrong tonal inflection in greeting you.”

  “Yeah, whatever frog breath, where’s your manifest and cargo list?”

  The Suritan hated being referred to as a frog, and knew it was a derogatory word that some hu-mans to use. He held his silence. You don’t argue the finer point of language and protocol with a lunatic holding a blaster, especially one with the safety off. Instead, he led the way to the Bridge and let him check the cargo manifest. The insolent hu-man had the gall to sit in his command chair and put his filthy boots up on the control consult. Several of his crew made motions towards the man, but he quickly waved them back. It wasn’t just the fact he’d sat in his seat, but he dared show the soles of his boots to them. It was clear that his barbarian had no manners whatsoever, or he’d know that showing the soles of his boots to a Voss was the supreme insult. Either that or a calculated insult, designed to provoke his crew. The Suritan shuddered. Did he mean to kill them all, and was only looking for an excuse? Captain Bear nonchalant looked down the cargo list while he picked his teeth with a thumbnail.

  “I can see a few things on this list that could be considered as giving aid and comfort to the enemy.” Captain Bear said at last. He worked up a belch and let it out, patting his stomach, another calculated insult.

  “I have told you, we carry no war material. This is forbidden by the hu-man, Royal Navy.”

  “Really, and of course, you always do what the hu-man Royal Navy tells you, right!” Mike mimicked. The Suritan gritted his teeth.

  “How much?” He hated having to ask, but there was no way round it. He didn’t want this barbarian poking around his cargo hold.

  “A thousand gold crowns.”

  “What! That’s outrageous!” For a moment, he did a sort of dance around the Bridge, waving his arms in the air. For all his size, it was amazing how light on his feet, he was even in a 1.2 gravity field the ship was set for. Mike brought his side arm down and pointed at the Suritan.

  “Go check the hold.” Captain Bear snapped over his shoulder, touching the keypad of the comm unit on his belt.

  “Wait!... all right, a thousand gold crowns.”

  “See, I knew we could do business, frog breath.” While all this was going on, Sergeant Rice and his team of Marines entered the cargo hold unseen. Even the tell tale readouts of the cargo hold air lock opening went unnoticed. The Bridge crew had their attention on him.

  “Nothing here, Skipper.” Rice whispered in his earpiece. Mike stalled a little longer, reading the cargo list again.

  It was clear that the Suritan didn’t want him poking around in the hold, but other than ripping it apart to find out what he was carrying, there wasn’t much he could do about it. Obviously, the Royal Navy and the Customs inspectors weren’t doing a very good job, or he’d made a side trip, not on his manifest. That would go into his report as well. In the end, he accepted the purse, and after checking it, another calculated insult, he departed the moment Rice reported he and his team clear. Mike made his way back to the ‘Hemlock’ and disengaged as quickly as possible. As the Voss trader vanished off the scope, Mike called a war council on the Bridge.

  “I’d say that was one pissed off Suritan, Skipper.” Pete Standish chuckled, having listened to the open communications.

  “Hated doing it, Peter, on the whole the Voss are nice people.”

  “He was definitely carrying something he didn’t want you to see.”

  “True, but for who, us or the Sirriens?” Sergeant Rice came in then, followed by two men. Each was carrying two plastic crates with them, and they placed them on the deck beside his chair.

  “The detector showed nothing, Skipper.”

  “Damn, it was obviously the wrong ship.”

  “Thought you might like an addition to you liqueur supply, sir.” Rice said, smiling from ear to ear.

  “You’d be poor mercenaries if you didn’t steal something.” Jenks said as he knelt down and opened one of the cases, whistled in delight.

  “Oh my! This is Trogon Brandy, and over a hundred years old! Rice, I’ve just promoted you to General of the Marine Corps.”

  “Well, thank you Mr. Jenks.” He laughed. “Next time I’ll steal something better, might make Admiral of the Fleet next.”

  “Sergeant Rice, you wouldn’t want the job, believe me, being a Sergeant is a lot more fun.” Rice cocked an eyebrow at him.

  “I think you could be right, Skipper.”

  “I hope you kept a couple of cases for the Marine Mess.”

  “Oh, yes, sir, I did, if that all right with you.”

  “Of course, spoils of War.”

  “So, what do we do now, Skipper, hang around here and wait for another Voss Trader?” Pete asked.

  “Don’t see what else we can do at the moment.”

  There waited for two weeks, killing the boredom by running battle scenarios with the shuttle and Captain launch acting as attacking ships. With the help of Conner Black and the other Petty Officer, Pate Standish in the mean time had quietly reorganized the crew into their different departments and assigned everyone to a battle station. In most cases, he’d tried to work it so the person’s battle station was close to his or duty station. This would help in an actual emergency, cutting down on the time for them to reach it. He passed the results to Mike, and after reviewing it passed it back with his approval. The simulated attacks helped refine the Marine gunners' skills on point defense, especially using dummy torpedoes to simulate incoming missiles. The point defense system worked during these attack runs, especially the multi-targeting capability, but between Gable and the Marines, they managed to refine the system even more.

  “Contact, Skipper, I have a Voss trader, but he going the wrong way.” Called down to the Mess.

  “Wrong way?”

  “Aye, sir, it looks as if he’s coming from the Sirrien space.

  “So, she’s not the one we went them.”

  “It might not be a bad idea to board her anyway, sir, at least to keep up our cover as a Merc ship.”

  “Good point.” Mike answered as they made their way quickly back up to the Bridge and settled in.

  “Number One, bring us to battle stations.”

  “Aye-aye, sir.” Pete pressed the alarm button as he answered.

  * * * * * *

  They used the same technique as before, with Rice and his team entering by the stern cargo airlock, while Mike put on his song and dance show as Captain Bear. The results were the same, except this time the Voss Suritan knew who he was.

  “My bother Suritan warned me that I might meet you.” His skin changed color three times while he spat the words out. “But this time, you will be disappointed, I carry nothing of any import to you, or the hu-mans.”

  “Still, it’s my job to check these things, Captain.” Mike took his time, wav
ing his blaster about. It wasn’t loaded with a full charge, and at most would only stun, but the Suritan didn’t know that. We all know how honest and trustworthy you frogs are, right>”

  “Skipper, I hate to tell you this, but the detector is showing trace elements of those two ship here, I think those two fighter were on this ship.” Rice whispered in his ear.

  “So, tell me, Captain, what did you carry to our sector on your last trip?”

  “Nothing that would concern the hu-man Royal Navy, or you, just heavy agriculture equipment and medical supplied for your Masters.” It didn’t take long to punch up the ships last ports of call.

  “Good, we can use all the ‘agriculture equipment’ we can get,” he giggled, making it sound as if he was in on the joke, “also the medical supplies.”

  The question was, did the Suritan know what he was carrying, or did he really believe he was carrying agriculture equipment’ and medical supplies. He wouldn’t put it pass the Sirriens to crate the ships to look like something else, and have them transported out of Earth space by a third neutral party, the Voss. It made sense in a way, as the Sirriens could quite honestly claim they knew nothing about the theft.

  “Where did you drop the heavy equipment off, Captain?” Mike asked casually, looking at the screen. The Suritan skin changed color, but Mike wasn’t familiar enough with the Voss to know what it means.

  “At your star Base Three, in quadrant nine or course, where else would we drop it off?” The alien's face took on a magenta shade, but it was his eye that clued Mike he’d said something out of place. The changes in skin color might make the Voss look funny and harmless, but they weren’t stupid.

  “Just checking, Captain, to see if you made any unauthorized side trip, say to smuggle in some illicit contraband like drug?”

  He tried to sound nonchalant, looking at the deckhead. The Voss weren’t above smuggling a few extra items to improve their profit margin. To a Voss of course it wasn’t smuggling. They were traders and took whatever cargo was available at one place, transported it to another place and sold it. Just because they happened to pass through someone else’s space where that particular cargo was outlawed was of no concern to them. Mike made a quick recovery, but by the Suritan’s changed expression, he knew the Captain had done exactly that.

  “I don’t know what you mean!” The Suritan spluttered.

  “Captain, Captain, I don’t care where else you went. I’m not the Sirrien Navy or Customs, just a poor mercenary trying to make an honest living.” Several of his team snickered hearing that and looked the other way as Mike shot them dark looks. “We all can’t be as lucky as you, Captain and have a nice trade agreement with everyone, now can we.”

  “You’ll get nothing from me on this trip, mercenary, I carry nothing that you hu-mans can use, and nor will I pay your ‘tax’.” He snapped. Mike looked angry, and kicked the helm consult in mock fury.

  “Don’t play with me, Captain, I’m not in the mood!” He snarled, and it wasn’t all acting. “I’ll be watching for you on your next trip, lizard.” With that, he stormed off the ship, barely giving the Voss time to seal the airlock before his disengaged.

  The ‘Hemlock’ beat a hasty departure and put distance between them and the Voss ship. Mike was angry, but with himself. If they’d only got here two or three weeks earlier they might have caught this ship on its way in, before they’d unloaded the fighters to another ship.

  “What now, Skipper?” Pete asked.

  “We head for that damn Star base, that’s what.” Mike gritted his teeth, angry at himself for failing.

  “Sir!”

  “You heard me, we head for the Sirrien Star base and destroy those fighters, that’s what, and those are my orders!”

  “I hate to say it, Skipper, but is that wise?” Pete muttered softly. Mike shot him a hard look.

  “Look, we spent a week putting that visibility coating on this ship, and consequently lost the opportunity to get those fighter, so let put the damn stuff to a real test.” Pete looked uncertain.

  “And if it's not as good as we think it is against military grade sensors?”

  “Then at least we will have tried, and found out just how good it isn’t.” Even as he said it, he knew he was wrong, but was loathed to say it.

  “Aye-aye, Skipper,” Pete looked dubious, but other than direct disobedience he was bound to follow his Captain’s orders, “shall I set course for the Sirrien space?”

  “No, Pete. You are right even if you didn’t say it.” Seeing Pete smile slightly. “We need to look at our options first before we go charging in there.” Being all ‘gung ho’ and charging straight in wasn’t what was needed right now, and he knew it.

  “Aye, aye, Skipper.”

  “As much as I dislike hanging around sitting around with my thumb up… well you know. We… I need to take a step back and consider our options.” Pete didn’t have to say anything, just his expression told Mike he approved. Mike motioned him closer and leaned over. “In future, Mr. Standish-Owen, if you think I’m wrong, or disagree with my decision, please tell me. As first officer it’s your duty to kick me in the butt once in a while to wake me up.” Pete looked at him a moment before a slight smile pulled at the corner of his lips.

  “Aye-aye, Captain.” He replied formally. Your wish is my command.”

  “Good. Now we have that settled, let figure out what our options are. Take Jan and head down to the Wardroom, and put your heads together.

  Pete and Jan did just that, and sat in the Wardroom and brainstormed possibilities, without the distracting of having to put part of their attention on the duties on the Bridge. People came and went to get snacks or coffee but left to the alone in the corner working over a holographic display of the local warp points and the systems beyond. In all, they send almost a whole watch going over one possibilities after another before reporting back to the Bridge with the findings.

  “What are our options?” Asked as they came back onto the Bridge and over to his command chair.

  “Not many, Skipper,” Pete sighed, “we know the Sirriens are on the other side of Elders World warp point, and all the other major WP in this region, and will probably have them covered in depth, so that lets them out.”

  “True. So what else do we have?” Pete turned his head and looked an Jan.

  “As far as I can see, Skipper, we only have one option, and that is the Excelsior system. It’s a dead star just outside Sirrien space with one of it warp point leading back into the system on the other side of the Elders World WP. We could try sneaking in thought their back door, so to speak.”

  “Somewhere in there I hear a caveat.” Jan slighted slightly and looked down at the floor a moment. “Come on Jan, out with it.” In answer, she swung his side screen around and tapped in a few commands.

  “Here the caveat, Skipper.” She used a laser pointer to indicate the exit point of the jump.

  “Ohhh I see.” Mike murmured as he looked at the screen. “It dumps us out at the edge of the systems Kuiper belt.”

  “Yes, Skipper. This WP is a wild one, much like Enright’s warp point in the Sol system.” Mike nodded in understanding, calculating the risk and distance involved to get inside the systems itself.

  “If we took a direct rout, which we can’t, that would give us about a six week run in real time to this Star base.

  “That’s if his information is correct.”

  “It should be, sir. Our charts show the warp point he used, this one,” she highlighted the Elders World warp point. “But we don’t have any information in our database about the actual location of the Star base on the other side.”

  “Understandable. The Sirriens aren’t about to newsfax about it or any information if they can help it.” Pate murmured.

  “True, sir, but you would have expected someone, a Voss trader, or another freighter Captain would have logged it in.”

  “Unless this is new, and none of the shipping lines that trade with us, trade with the
Sirriens as well.”

  “Whatever the reason the Admiralty doesn’t know about this Star base is beside the point, which means three things. One, we have to go into the system and verify it’s there. Second, find out if those fighters are there, third, figure out a way to destroy them.” Mike sat back in his chair, looking pensive.

  “Agreed, sir.” The both nodded. “But you might add, a four.”

  “A fourth?”

  “Yes, sir. Finding a way back out of the star systems without getting as collective assess shot off.” He smiled.

  “You have a point there, Number One.”

  “So, we all agree that this is our best option is to use this warp point and sneak in the back door?” Mike queried.