"Excellency!" exclaimed the Head Chef, his distress obvious, "I had no idea!"
"Easy, Samman, I am not accusing you of any wrongdoing. With all of the confusion during the attack on the Santana Nexus and our narrow escape, we have an uncomfortably high number of personnel on board that we know very little about. You will also recall that two members of the wait staff made an attempt on my life just before the terrorist attack on the Nexus Station."
"I am deeply sorry about that, Excellency..." began the Chief Steward.
"I am not accusing you either, Jawad, it just that we need to talk to both of you about your workers. Particularly anyone who has joined us recently, like right after the attack on the Nexus."
Both men took a few moments to consider the Ambassador's questions before answering.
"There is new man on my cooking staff," said Samman. "Now that I think on it, he and the man who attacked Sondia joined us right after the escape from the Nexus. They said they needed to prepare and deliver special food for one of the diplomats."
"He was associating with the man who made the attempt on Sondia?" said the Ambassador. "We will need to watch him. Try not to alarm him, Samman, but be careful not to share any important information where he might overhear."
"Absolutely, Excellency."
"Jawad?"
"I too have a new staff member who joined right after the attack. The two men who attacked you in the ballroom back while we were at the Nexus were not a part of our staff, they were with the catering company that had temporarily come over from the Nexus Station. The security situation there was...impossible, totally nerve wracking! We must be careful not to put ourselves in such a bind again!"
"Yes, I must admit that we were behaving somewhat naively during that time," said the Ambassador. "No more!"
"What are we going to do, Excellency?"
"We need proof, at the moment all we have on any of them is some reason to suspect them."
"You have something in mind, Excellency?"
"For now we are going to watch them carefully, in case any of them should show their hand. Beyond that..." He stopped for a moment and asked, "...I wonder if there is some way that we can use these men to our advantage?"
"I'm not sure I understand, Excellency."
"Could we figure out some way to get them to communicate false information about our future plans? That could prove to be very useful!"
Chapter 25.
UTFN Reclamation Center, on board Meridian Imperial Diplomatic Ship Istanbul, January 4, 2599.
The Ambassador talked things over with Helen Murdock and between the two of them they had agreed on alternative living arrangements for Faiza and Amanda. After the attempt on Sondia's life, the two young women had been told to be very careful and to be certain that they had a guard with them when they left their quarters for any reason at all. The girls had adjusted well enough to the arrangement but the enforced confinement and the need for a guard was almost certain to get old in hurry.
Ambassador Saladin went to the quarters shared by the two young women and rapped on the door.
"Faiza?" he said into the intercom, "It is your father. It is safe to let me in."
Faiza opened the door for him. He came in and she closed the door behind him.
"As I told you yesterday, Sondia and I think that it has become too dangerous for the two of you onboard this ship. I have spoken to Captain Murdock and Commander Kresge and, in light of this most recent attack, they agree. We are transferring the two of you to the Greyhound immediately. We think you will be much safer there. Captain Murdock has arranged quarters where the two of you can continue to be together."
"Will Tamara be coming too?" asked Faiza.
"Never fear, Dr. Carlisle will be accompanying you. I am deeply sorry that all this is necessary but you must transfer without delay."
The two young women, along with several of the Ambassador's most trusted guards, immediately began to pack for the move. Faiza had to decide what she would leave behind as there was not nearly enough room for all of her things in the new accommodations. Amanda just threw all of her stuff back into the big duffel bag she had come with. After taking about half an hour for Amanda to get squared away and another twenty minutes for Faiza to pack some necessary essentials, the two young women suited up and made the transfer over to the Greyhound on the Rover II.
Within an hour after boarding they were more or less settled in.
With many of her personnel having been pressed into service to crew the various ships that were heading out on the resupply and recruiting missions, the Greyhound currently had a fair amount of extra living space. The particular suite onboard the Greyhound that the young women had been assigned to was actually one of the best equipped on the entire ship. It had previously been used to transport paying passengers and was equipped with its own ultrasonic shower and private sanitary facilities. Their new quarters were somewhat smaller and considerably less luxurious than the opulent stateroom they had enjoyed on the Istanbul but the two young women found them to be more than adequate. It was a relief to both of them to leave the security threats of the Istanbul behind. With the incredible resilience of the young, the two girls settled in to their new digs quickly and resumed their studies. To them it was just one more part of the sometimes terrifying but mostly exhilarating adventure that their lives had become.
***
UTFN Reclamation Center, onboard Federation Auxiliary ship Greyhound, January 4, 2599.
Carlisle, who had out of necessity been maintaining some kind of temporary accommodation on both ships, had returned to what would now be her permanent quarters on the Greyhound, the conversation with Talbot still running through her head. The last few days had been nothing but a furious, mad rush but she could tell that she was getting better. Not all that long ago she would have been ready for a nap after walking to the mess area of the Istanbul and back. Today she was tired but she felt as though she still had a little bit left in the tank. She knew she should be getting some rest but she was going see if she could access more of the information on the download from the Veritian derelict's computer drive first.
As a compromise, she lay down on her bunk and stretched out before bringing up the wrist computer display in her mind's eye. After accessing the area in the data set that had yielded the last entries she had looked at, she set the software to work and waited while it deciphered another block of information. After a short wait, Captain Dobbins of the Veritian cruiser again appeared on the video.
"Captain's Journal, June 15, 2542, Captain Josiah Dobbins reporting. The Instrument of God is guarding two Allied cruisers that have taken heavy damage in the fighting. The battle went well for us for the first few hours but the Federation forces managed to hold their positions and then contacted their ships in the Patagonian system.
The latest word is that Federation reinforcements are on the way.
We had more ships initially but even with that advantage, we faced some pretty tough going. Ship for ship, the Federation warships are more powerful and better protected than ours. With these new forces joining the fight they will have a decided advantage. I just received the following message from one of the ships we have been protecting."
The video switched to Dobbins' viewscreen where he showed the playback of a communication that he had just received a few minutes earlier. A very harried looking commander in a Jasmine Navy officer's uniform was speaking urgently from the screen.
"Captain Dobbins? Come in please," came the message.
"Captain Dobbins of the Instrument of God here," replied the Veritian commander from offscreen.
"This is Captain Imran of the Alexandria."
Carlisle sat up in her bunk, stopped the playback at that point and ran the last fifteen seconds over again. She could scarcely believe what she was hearing. Dobbins had received a call from the JRS Alexandria, one of the most talked about Opposition ships of the entire campaign. The ship had reportedly been carrying the son of the Jas
mine Emperor as well as the boy's uncle who was the Emperor's brother-in-law. This ship was known to have been destroyed in the battle and the remains of the Uncle had been found and identified among the wreckage. The Prince's body had not been found but he was presumed dead because the ship had suffered such a catastrophic explosion that many bodies had not been recoverable.
What had she stumbled upon?
Carlisle resumed the playback.
"What can I do for you, Captain Imran?"
"We are sending a shuttle to your ship. Please make ready to receive it."
"For what reason?"
"The shuttle will have a very important person onboard."
"What am I to do about that?"
"Once he is on board, take him with you and go to the best protected area of your ship."
"I don't understand," Dobbins replied.
"I cannot explain fully but know that this person must be protected at all costs. We have come up with a plan but it is admittedly a desperate one. We must hurry, there is a Federation force that will be upon us in less than thirty minutes."
"And your plan is...?"
"As soon as the shuttle has docked in your bay, concentrate all of your crew in places of safety in the ship. You yourself should abandon the bridge and get to the emergency control room down in engineering."
"Just what is it that you are proposing?"
"We will open fire on your ship but will not target engines or drives or other vital parts of the vessel. Fire a few shots back at us. We'll leave your main batteries alone until the enemy gets closer."
"But...this is suicide for you and your crew!"
"It is for the greater good of our cause, Captain. We must do our duty. I have no illusions regarding the future. The destruction of my ship is inevitable, my crew, myself and my ship are doomed. All will believe that your new passenger has been killed when my ship is destroyed. With us firing at you and you back at us, the Federation forces will see you as an ally. With your ship badly damaged, they will help you escape. Go to the jump point and get out of this system. Your passenger must get to safety, the future of our common cause is at stake! Can you do that, Captain Dobbins? It is of the utmost importance!"
"Yes, we'll do it," came the reluctant answer, "Standing by to receive your shuttle."
Carlisle nodded her head in understanding. Captain Dobbins was being handed a tremendous opportunity. She had seen the timestamp from this interchange and she knew from the research she had done for her dissertation that the charge by Tobias Arthur's overmatched destroyer force had just stopped the Opposition battleship squadron in its tracks, and that Jansson's Federation battlecruiser forces were in the process of launching a devastating flank attack on the Opposition battleships.
The tide of the battle was about to turn dramatically. Dobbins could see that he and his ship would also be destroyed or forced to surrender. The bold and risky plan was actually a pretty good one, especially on such short notice. Dobbins' desire to transport out of the system in a badly damaged ship would have been seen as quite reasonable, even necessary. In the heat and confusion of battle, the Federation ships guarding the jump point would not have been doing much double-checking. It was obvious to Carlisle that Dobbins hadn't liked the arrangement but he hadn't been able to come up with anything better either. He had little choice but to follow the hastily fabricated plan.
Dobbins left his post, presumably to transfer to the auxiliary control room but he had left his computer on which meant that the audio and video feeds continued for a few more minutes. Carlisle watched in fascination as the lights on the bridge began to flicker crazily and the view danced around as the cruiser began to take pulse beam hits from its own allied ships. Finally an impact occurred that resulted in the obvious penetration of a pulse beam bolt into the bridge area. Debris from the damage dealt by the pulse impact and anything on the bridge that had not been secured became part of a maelstrom as all of the debris and any other loose material was sucked into the vortex created by the hull breach and blown out into the vacuum of space. The video and audio feeds from the Captain's console stopped some five seconds later as power to the bridge was interrupted as well.
It was the last entry on the Quantum drive.
Carlisle lay back on the bed for a good five minutes running the events she had just witnessed through her analytical mind. There was a very strong possibility that she had just received new information on one of the greatest mysteries of the Succession War: the fate of Prince Merrikh, who would have been heir to the throne of Jasmine if his father had not decided to abdicate. The abdication was the crux of the entire Succession War and the Prince had been the rallying point for the Succession forces! All that Carlisle was missing was definitive proof that the transferred VIP had indeed been Prince Merrikh.
The journal kept by Josiah Dobbins had ended when he had abandoned the bridge. Was it possible that there was more information on one of the computers down in the auxiliary control room near the engineering section on that old wreck? Had Dobbins continued to make entries in his personal journal? This video log answered a number of questions but also posed an equal number of new and tantalizing ones. Carlisle had visited the abandoned Veritian derelict herself just a few short weeks ago. She remembered speculating with Lieutenant Harris on how improbable it was that the ship had been able to execute both micro and macro hyperjumps in her severely battle-damaged condition.
This new information would appear to have answered that particular question. The ship had been deliberately shot up but the vital power plant, reaction engines and jump modules had been carefully and deliberately spared. The Instrument had been a hastily contrived escape vehicle for someone important. That someone almost had to be Prince Merrikh!
"Now if you can only prove it, Tamara," she said to herself out loud.
Sometime in the next few hours, there were two ships leaving for the Heard's World system to procure food and supplies for the Scrapyard. The loading of a cargo ship would take at least a couple of days, probably more considering the backwards level of development on the planet. This Merrikh business was important enough that she might be able to talk Kresge into having someone go back to the Veritian ship while the cargo was being loaded and check to see if any of the computers or storage drives in the auxiliary control room had survived. If Captain Dobbins had continued his journal on the command computer down there, she might be able to get more information.
It was somewhat of a long shot but she surely had nothing to lose by asking!
***
Carlisle found Kresge sitting at one of the computer terminals on the Greyhound's bridge, scowling as he ran down the long list of supplies that they needed while attempting to prioritize them into things that were "badly needed" and things that were only "kind of badly needed." Irene Marshall and Allison Steuben were looking over his shoulder, helping him fill out and refine the shopping list.
"Hello, Irene, Allison," said Carlisle.
"Hello, Ensign, Um...I mean Doctor," said Allison.
"Tamara!" replied Irene, "You're looking good! I take it your recovery is going well?"
"It's not going as fast as I'd like it to, but I think I'm making progress."
"I take it you need to see the Commander?"
"I'm sorry to interrupt, Ma'am, but I do have something important I need to talk to him about."
"What is it Ensign?" asked Kresge, not looking up from the monitor in front of him.
"I have come across some new information that I think you should see," said Carlisle, "I really need your opinion on it."
The Commander tapped a string of commands on the keyboard in front of him and hit return. He then sat up straight in the chair and arched his back while massaging his face with his hands for a moment. Only then did he stand up and acknowledge the Ensign.
"Right now is probably as good a time as any," he said, "I could really use a break from...this. Can you and Allison take over for a while, Irene? The two of you know this stuff
way better than I do anyway."
"No problem, Oskar," said Irene as she slid smoothly up to the station that Kresge had just vacated. Allison grabbed a chair and sat down right next to her. The two of them went immediately back to work on the long shopping list.
"Okay, Ensign, what have you got?" asked Kresge.
"It's some information I got from the quantum drive we took off from the Veritian derelict, Sir," said Carlisle. She looked around the bridge of the Greyhound. "It's...It's somewhat sensitive, Sir..."
"Very well, come on in to my ready room."
The two of them left the bridge and went down a short corridor to Kresge's "ready room" which was really a small office that had been part of the First Mate's quarters. Kresge had commandeered the Mate's suite when he had drafted the Greyhound into becoming the main living facility for the Federation personnel stationed at the Scrapyard after the original facility had been destroyed by the terrorist attack that had kicked off this entire conflagration in the first place.
Once they were inside the ready room, Kresge closed the door and both of them took a seat, Kresge behind the small desk and Carlisle in front of it. Carlisle used her wrist computer display to show the Commander the very same files that she been viewing down in her quarters. Kresge watched intently as she played through Josiah Dobbin's monologues in a projected hologram. The Commander said nothing for several long moments after the narrative ended, running the implications through his mind and trying to decipher what they might lead to. Finally he said, "You think that this was all referring to Prince Merrikh?"
"A VIP from the Alexandria? Transferred out near the height of the battle? I can't think of anyone else it could be. This could be really important, Commander, especially if it's partial proof that the Prince did survive the Succession War."
"And if he survived the War... what then?"
"He would have only been about sixteen years old when the War ended," replied Carlisle."
Junkyard Dogs series Omnibus Page 88
