Across the room, James Dolittle, or "Joshua Jericho" as he was known in the Brotherhood, watched the two children playing with and finally exchanging the video game and wished he had something to do to counteract the boredom. Actually, allowing the kids to keep that game had been one of Ezra's better decisions, unlike some of the other things the Brotherhood had done in last couple of weeks. The kids were, for the most part, very well-behaved, especially considering the circumstances. Ezra is supposed to be talking to the Ambassador sometime in the few hours. He thought. Things were gonna start happening after that.
Chapter 56
Deep Space, near the UTFN Reclamation Center, October 9, 2598.
The marines onboard the Istanbul's cutter were barely cordial and deadly serious about their business. When the airlock door to the cutter opened up, three men in full battle armor greeted the Scrapyard survivors. Unlike the raiders that the defenders had dealt with earlier, these men didn't give the impression that they were amateurs and their sleek battle armor was of the latest design.
Carlisle held their two captured pulse weapons above her head in plain sight and surrendered them immediately. Before the cutter began to move, each member of the team, as well as the prisoner, was thoroughly examined with a handheld security scanner. Finally they were ordered to take a seat. The prisoner was immediately stripped of the armored suit and locked in a small holding area. Beyond simple introductions, there was practically no conversation on the mercifully short trip back to the Ambassador's ship.
Upon their arrival at the Istanbul, they were subjected to yet another extremely thorough security check after which the prisoner was whisked off to somewhere. The leader of the rescue group, a man called Hussein, told the trio that the Ambassador would see them immediately. They were ushered into a small meeting room where all three were instructed to take a seat on the same side of a conference table. Four guards, each armed with what looked like a stun rod of some kind, lined the walls of the small room. They too were all business.
What happened next was completely unexpected. A tall, lithe woman in a flowing white garment entered the room first. Her classically beautiful features were clearly visible through a dark-tinted veil that covered her head and shoulders. The veil shimmered with faint iridescent highlights when it caught the light at just the right angle. Behind her was a tall, athletic and immaculately dressed man. He was also immaculately groomed with short, black hair and a pencil-thin mustache. Both dignitaries and all of the guards appeared to be of Old Earth Middle East origin.
The man spoke, his chiseled features breaking into a smile as he did so.
"Please forgive all of the security measures. They are, I fear, something of a necessary evil in these difficult times. I am Mohammad Saad Saladin, Meridian Ambassador to the Santana Quadrant. This most excellent lady is my wife, Sondia." He looked the Scrapyard survivors over with dark, intelligent eyes and gave each of them a short nod as he said their names. "You will be Lieutenant Harris...and you will be technician Hawkins...and this must be Ensign Carlisle. Captain Nassar tells me that you have had quite an adventure. Tell us what happened. It would be advisable for you to be as truthful as you can; my wife has...ah...certain abilities."
The three defenders took turns telling the Ambassador about the events of the last three days. The Ambassador's wife interrupted once or twice, to ask about certain details, but mostly the diplomat and his wife just listened. When they had finally finished the Ambassador shook his head in disbelief.
"Truly a remarkable tale! Your bravery and resourcefulness are to be commended! We will speak more of this later, as time permits. Right now, in light of these new developments, there is much to do. We have not forgotten our manners, however. While you have been telling your story, we have been preparing accommodations for each of you. Hussein will show you to your quarters." He smiled reassuringly. "Have no fear, you are our honored guests. Please feel free to ask if you need anything. For now, I think you should eat, refresh yourselves, and then get some rest. Also, I totally agree with you. We must proceed on the assumption that the New Ceylon Orbital station is not a safe place for us right now."
He shook hands with each of them as they left the room. When the room had cleared, he looked at his wife.
"What do you make of it, Sondia?"
"They are all telling the truth," she said. "I also think that the Lieutenant and the Ensign might be romantically involved."
"We'll check their story. I am very concerned that the authorities on the Orbital Station haven't tried to contact us. They must have seen us come out of the hyperlink point."
"As I said, husband. These three are telling the truth."
Chapter 57
New Ceylon Orbital Station, Central Spindle, October 10, 2598.
Clad in a borrowed Orbital Station spacesuit, Perry Allen slipped out of the small auxiliary airlock near the very southern end of the New Ceylon Orbital Station spindle after clipping a tether to a D ring just outside the airlock door. Maintaining physical contact with the station at all times, he made his way over to the base of the Stage I Whitney communications dish. He clipped a second tether to another D ring near the base of the dish and used the remote system to unclip and reel in the other tether. It felt good to be working outside again. The planet formed a breathtakingly beautiful, bright blue and white backdrop behind him as he worked. He spoke into his suit communicator.
"I'm there, Jane. This doesn't look too bad."
"Is the dish intact?" Jane Tresham asked.
"Yeah, it's in good shape, thank God. Just as we figured, their main target was the Stage II dish. It looks like that took a direct hit. Most of the damage on the Stage I dish looks to be shrapnel and splinters from the destruction of the other dish."
"Is the cable intact?"
"No, I think that's the problem; at least I hope so. It looks like it might have been sheared off pretty clean." After a brief inspection of the damage he thought he knew what he needed.
"Have someone put two meters of eight gauge shielded cable in the airlock," he said. "I'll also need a heavy duty electrical splicing kit. I'll be back in about ten minutes to get them."
He made a few more preparations and then, retracing his route, retrieved the requested items from the airlock and returned to the base of the dish where he expertly spliced the cable into place, reconnecting the Stage I dish. Fifteen minutes later he was back on board the station, out of his suit, and looking over Jane Tresham's shoulder as she switched the console on and sent out a test message.
"This is Jane Tresham, head of engineering for the New Ceylon Orbital Station, calling anyone within range of this transmission. The Orbital station has been attacked by terrorists. An organized resistance on the station has forced the terrorists into a confined area, but they are holding hostages. The terrorists disabled communications shortly before they mounted their attack. We are testing our repairs. Please reply."
She repeated the message.
Within a few minutes they received a reply.
"New Ceylon Orbital Station? This is Meridian Imperial Ship Istanbul, Captain Nassar here. You are currently in control of the Orbital station?"
"Yes, Captain Nassar, all except the receiving area for the main airlock and the main airlock itself. The remaining terrorists are barricaded in that area."
"How did you manage to regain control of the station?"
"Commander Oskar Kresge of the Federation Navy assumed command of the Station forces a few hours ago. Since he took command, we have managed to kill or capture fifteen of the terrorists that remained on board. I should warn you that they had two stolen cargo vessels that were converted into pirate ships fitted with high-powered pulse beam weapons. We don't know the location of either ship since they both went out to the New Ceylon Reclamation Center to attack survivors out there who were hoping to warn you."
"The survivors have succeeded, Ms. Tresham. We picked up four people about six hours ago and they have informed us about the situat
ion on the station. We are currently on route to lend you whatever assistance we can. Naturally, I cannot take any risks with the Meridian Ambassador and the Prime Minister's daughter on board.""That is perfectly understandable, Captain. What happened to the two raider ships?"
"Your Scrapyard survivors destroyed both of them."
"They got both ships? Did they tell you how?"
"I shall let them tell you the story themselves, Ms. Tresham. It was a remarkable achievement and I could never do it justice. Would it be possible to speak with your Commander?"
"Certainly, Captain, though I hope you don't mind waiting a little while. The Orbital Station communications are still down. I'm calling from an auxiliary communications room at the base of the station spindle. The Commander is way out on the fifth deck of the wheel and will need to come up from there. That means a climb up one of the spokes to the spindle, since the elevators aren't operating. That will probably take an hour or so. My apologies, we're still in a bit of disarray here."
"We can wait, Ms. Tresham. Contact us when the Commander is available. Meanwhile we are using maximum thrust and expect to arrive in about twelve hours or so."
"Thank you, Captain. Until later then..."
Tresham signed off and proceeded to track down Kresge.
Chapter 58
New Ceylon Orbital Station, Smuggler's Lair, October 10, 2598.
Amanda Steuben ran breathlessly into the Big Hall down on the fifth level of the Orbital Station. She scanned the area and immediately spotted Commander Kresge across the room, surrounded by his battle commanders. Jane Tresham had told her to interrupt whatever the Commander was doing and deliver her message.
"...so now the bastard says he has a nuclear bomb planted and needs a ship...," Kresge was explaining.
"I'm sorry, Commander," Amanda interrupted. "Jane Tresham has made contact with the Meridian Ambassador. He wants to talk to you as soon as possible."
"Excuse me, all," said Kresge. He turned to Amanda. "What do I need to do?"
"Sorry, Commander, but you'll have to go up to the spindle. We have a cart waiting outside."
They took the cart over to the nearest stairwell, and Kresge went up the stairs to the fourth deck entrance that provided access to the spoke maintenance area. Orville Steuben himself guided Kresge through the doors and hatches as well as accompanying him on the journey up the caged ladder of the spoke.
"Commander?" said Steuben, while they were stopped for a short rest on one of the landings. "Could I ask you something?"
"We've got a few minutes, ask away."
"It's about my daughter."
"Your daughter? Kresge gave him a perplexed look.
"Hear me out, Commander, please? You know that she wasn't part of the Organization, don't you?"
"I didn't, but I'll take your word for it. Why is that important?"
"She's a good kid, Commander, she's smart, she works hard and her grades have always been real good..."
"What's this leading up to, Steuben?"
"As a Commander in the Federation Navy... you could help her get into the Naval Academy."
Kresge was stunned.
"Yes...I suppose I could. Is this something she wants?"
"More than ever after working with you, Commander."
"I...I don't know what to say, Steuben. Yes, I'll look into it."
"Thanks, Commander."
They resumed climbing. Kresge, in spite of being in rather good condition, was breathless as they finally floated into the spindle. Jane Tresham was waiting for them.
"Commander, we finally meet face to face!" said Tresham as she vigorously shook Kresge's hand.
"You folks have been doing a hell of a job up here, Jane. Juggling the atmosphere was just what we needed. Unfortunately, we have other problems now. The leader of this batch of misfits claims he has a nuclear bomb planted and he'll set it off if we don't meet his demands."
"I heard. That creep is just full of tricks, isn't he?"
"That he is, but he's the one trapped on the top end of the spindle, not us. We'll think of something. Meanwhile, better put me in contact with the Ambassador."
They made their way several levels southward in the spindle to the long neglected communications room near the very southern tip. Tresham led Kresge and Steuben over to the Stage I communications console and switched it from standby to active status.
"This is Jane Tresham of the New Ceylon Orbital Station calling Meridian Imperial Ship Istanbul. I have Commander Kresge standing by."
The Meridian ship must have been waiting for the message because an answer came almost immediately.
"Istanbul here. A moment, please, for Captain Nassar."
An impressive looking, barrel-chested individual in an immaculate Meridian Imperial Navy uniform came onto the screen.
"Commander Kresge?"
"Yes, that's me."
"I'm Captain Nassar of the Meridian Imperial Navy. The Ambassador will be with us in another few minutes. I wish to inform you that we have several of your Federation Navy personnel onboard. You should be able to speak with them after the Ambassador has been fully briefed."
"I would greatly appreciate that, Captain. Can you tell me who they are?"
"In a moment, Commander. We've summoned them to the bridge. Ah, here's the Ambassador."
A handsome man, slimmer than the Captain, but with similar dark brown eyes and olive complexion appeared on the viewscreen. Upon closer inspection, his immaculately-groomed black hair was shot with a few streaks of gray and the skin of his face was creased in places; there were also a few wrinkles, especially around his eyes. Dressed in elegant but casual clothing, he projected an image of easy, almost nonchalant professionalism. Next to him a beautiful woman with shoulder-length black hair came into view.
"Greetings, Commander Kresge. I am Ambassador Saladin. You have met Captain Nassar; this is my wife Sondia. She is also my most trusted advisor. You and I were scheduled to meet as part of the diplomatic program onboard the orbital station. I was really looking forward to meeting you and discussing your famous Scrapyard."
"The pleasure is all mine, Excellency," said Kresge. He also acknowledged the Ambassador's wife with a slight bow. "Lady Sondia." She nodded and he continued, "Perhaps we can still have that conversation. However, right now I have a bit of a situation."
"So I've heard. The three survivors from the attack on the Scrapyard have told us quite a tale. From the sound of things your own story is every bit as exciting."
"More exciting than I care for, Excellency. I...I don't know how to put this delicately... The terrorists are from the Veritian Brotherhood..."
"Yes, Commander, your three Scrapyard survivors told us that."
"Their plan was to lure you on board the station and capture you."
"After which we were to be held for ransom?"
"Ah...not exactly. They reportedly made a deal with the Sheik of Barsoom to turn you over to him. Not just you, Excellency, your wife as well."
There was a silence as this information sunk in. Kresge continued.
"I regret that I am the one who must tell you these things, Excellency. Thank the powers that be that we have, so far, managed to thwart these plans."
"I shall be eternally grateful, Commander." The Ambassador, for all of his expertise and experience, had been visibly shaken by the information.
"Our situation is still far from resolved," Kresge continued. "The leader of the terrorists has insisted that he be put into contact with you. He has some demands. He's holding the station governor and the governor's family as hostages. He also claims that he's planted a nuclear device on the station. If I were you, I wouldn't come within a hundred kilometers of the station, and I'd keep my shields powered up, just to be on the safe side."
As his training and his natural instincts kicked back in, the Ambassador recovered his composure. "Where in this quadrant would a renegade Christian sect get their hands on a nuclear device?" he asked, concern in his expression
and his tone.
"That I don't know. He could be bluffing, but we obviously can't afford to find out that he isn't."
"It will hurt nothing if I talk to him, Commander. It might even buy us all some time. As soon as we heard from your Scrapyard survivors, we contacted the Federation authorities at the Santana Nexus. Unfortunately, they won't be able to get reinforcements here for at least another thirty hours or so. We will take your advice and stay a safe distance away from the station with shields powered. However, we may be able to render assistance in unexpected ways."
"I don't know if we have thirty hours, Excellency. Even if we did, I don't know that a squadron of warships will necessarily do any good either. I'd say we're still pretty much on our own. Naturally, anything you can do will be greatly appreciated. What did you have in mind?"
"The Istanbul is equipped with sensing equipment that could probably locate a nuclear device, if there is one. I think the equipment will function adequately to confirm the existence of such a device, maybe even pinpoint its location, even from a hundred kilometers away."
"The station has some pretty effective anti-radiation coating, but you might still be able to locate a nuclear signature. It'd sure be worth a try, Excellency. How long until you're in position?"
"We should be at that range in just under ten hours now, Commander. Make whatever arrangements you need to for my conversation with the terrorist leader and keep me informed. In fact, our forces will need to be in constant contact from now on as we work to find a way to resolve this situation, hopefully without more bloodshed." The Ambassador's face lit up in a genuine smile as he was distracted by something off screen. "Ah," he said, "they have arrived. Perhaps you'd like to speak with your survivors now, Commander."
The three Scrapyard defenders crowded together so Kresge could see all of them at once in the display.
"Harris, Carlisle, Hawkins! You guys all made it!"
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