Echoes from Yesterday: Pirates of the Badlands Series Book 4
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Echoes from Yesterday
Pirates of the Badlands Series Book 4
Sean Benjamin
Copyright
© 2016 by Sean Benjamin – All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be copied or reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
Dedication
For Grace
Editor and Friend
Thanks for all the help on so many fronts
~ ~ ~
What’s past is prologue.
– The Tempest by William Shakespeare
~ ~ ~
The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.
– The Go-Between by Lesley Poles Hartley
~ ~ ~
Table of Contents
Echoes from Yesterday
Pirates of the Badlands Series Book 4
Copyright
Dedication
Table of Contents
Author’s Note
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Epilogue
Glossary
About the Author
Author’s Note
To state the obvious: we all have a past. I suspect most people don’t think about their past all that much. We devote our attention to the complicated present and an uncertain future. If people do reflect on the past at all, it is to recall selective memories. The high peaks and low valleys. The past in our memories tends to be bundled together as a collection of significant events, personal achievements, missed opportunities and regrets, or a lamentation for the good ol’ days. Maybe all of them at once.
One of the reasons most people do not look back with any regularity is because they know their personal history. There is nothing new to look at in the rear view mirror. At least nothing new to be discovered in casual reflection, so we don’t revisit the already travelled terrain of our life journey. A few people might indulge in some genealogy research, but most folks are satisfied with their memories and the occasional oral family history lesson from immediate family members.
Despite the lack of investigative zeal, I think most people want a full record of their personal passage. They want to know their own story. After all, we are the central players in our individual histories and we want those stories to be complete. At least complete enough to keep us from wondering about any important pertinent facts.
We also want our histories to mean something. We want it to matter, preferably to more people than just ourselves.
In the three books preceding this effort, the murky past of Raferty Hawkins, and other leaders of Pirate Flotilla One, has been alluded to on several occasions but never explained. Much of that past is laid out in this book. It is a bit of a change to the trajectory of this series, but I have always had it in the plot line. This new aspect will add another dimension to this tale. I hope you like it.
Introduction
Despite many victories in battle, the tide is turning against Pirate Flotilla One in the Badlands. Admiral of the Fleet, Cynthia Hochstadt, has taken command of the Goldenes Tor forces in the region. Married to the Emperor’s nephew, she is getting massive government support in the form of military reinforcements, money to buy allies and information, and an open-ended commitment to success. Success is defined one way: get Raferty Hawkins and his band of pirate criminals.
Hawkins has responded by flooding the media outlets with a stream of images showing recent Goth actions sure to inflame the natives to the Goth military presence. He also has committed his force to widespread raids across the quadrant. Corporation ships are seized. Outposts are hit. Lone Goth warships are ambushed. Flot 1 ships seem to be everywhere the Goths have a weak presence.
Hawkins knows he can’t keep up this pace of operations and this string of successes. He will happily settle for several small victories as he prepares to leave the battlefield in control of his enemies. His flotilla has pressing business elsewhere and will be gone when the Goths make their initial push to locate and destroy Pirate Flotilla One.
Also, he has a personal mission of his own to attend to. Perhaps it is too late to make a difference. Perhaps not. But he knows this undertaking must be done. He has ignored his past for his entire life, but now time has forced his hand. If nothing else, there are people who deserve to know about the past. And he is one of the very few who can tell that saga. Besides, there could be advantages in stirring those not-quite-dead embers, and Pirate Flotilla One needs all the advantages they can get.
Chapter 1
“Zed Control, Shuttle 407.”
“407, Zed Control. Go ahead.”
“Control, 407 declares point Canal out of main dock. Proceeding points Dome, Boyer, and Castle, over.”
“Roger, 407. Say final destination.”
“407 to Haven Hill.”
“Roger, 407. Proceed as stated. Altitude at your discretion. Have a good flight.”
“407, thank you. Out.”
The shuttle skimmed along its planned course at a height of one kilometer. The woman at the controls manually piloted the shuttle, foregoing the automatic pilot and course lock. Although no observer watching her would be able to discern it, she was enjoying the feeling of the controls in her hands, compensating for the effects of wind, and smoothly staying on course, airspeed, and altitude.
The young man sitting next to her was one of the few people who knew how much she loved flying small craft, and he was content to quietly let her enjoy this final phase of the trip. It had been a long journey to the home planet of the Aurora Empire. She had initially opposed accompanying him on this trip, as she preferred to keep her secrets to herself. However, he had been convinced that he needed a second pilot and back up support if this trip went badly. It was also the right thing to do. She had a part in this, and it could not be denied any longer. Now both were glad they had come together. Regardless of the ultimate result of this trip, the journey itself had done them a great deal of good. They had talked, relaxed, read books, and slept for long periods withou
t being interrupted by the crisis of the hour or of the day. But now as they closed on their destination, he could feel a rise in anxiety he had not expected. She had sensed it in him also. After all, they had been through many tough times together over the years, and she knew him very well. Yesterday, she had looked at him and remarked, “It will be fine. You have to do this. No matter what happens, you have to do this.”
“Could change everything.”
“Only if you let it.”
“We can’t go back.”
She smiled one of her very rare smiles, “Of course we can.”
Yes, he was very happy for her company. He stared out the side windscreen at the passing terrain while enjoying the silence.
Chapter 2
The old man sat at his desk in the library and stared at the floating screen of his personal computer. The arrangements were done. Despite his title, lands, and wealth, he was really a simple man at his core. He had always acted out his expected role in public but, in private, he preferred simple dress, food, and activities. He was more comfortable having a quiet meal at home than being at a formal state dinner. He preferred the company of a few close friends to addressing audiences throughout the Empire. These newly-made arrangements reflected his tastes. It would be a straightforward affair done quickly with quiet grace and dignity. Others had wanted to do more but this would be enough for him, and in the end that was all that mattered. He would not compromise on this. Quick and with minimum fuss.
The old man was slowly dying. Although this is a true statement for all people, with this man there was a more definitive timetable involved. When he had been diagnosed, he had ensured it would be kept quiet. A private man by nature, he did not desire sympathy, real or false, or the publicity. But after a few weeks, word had leaked out he was not well. At the time, he reflected on the source of this leak and had come to the conclusion someone in the medical field had provided the information for money or to feel important. The man smiled grimly. This occurrence just further confirmed his already low opinion of the medical profession. Once the truth was known, he also was not a man to deny the obvious nor did he care to sugarcoat it. He confirmed his condition and would talk no more of it. The public’s morbid curiosity quickly faded, and he was left alone by the media.
He had several months left. He leaned back in his favorite chair, in his favorite room, and picked up his cigar from the ashtray and inhaled. He then coughed twice as a result of the smoke, but he did not care. He held up the cigar and regarded it. This habit had been part of the problem. He had taken the drug Longevity throughout his life. Longevity might be a miracle that slowed the aging process, but it didn’t ensure you would live forever. Also, a lifetime of too many cigars, too many rich meals, too many drinks, too many working hours, and too many crises did not help the lifespan either. He would change none of it. He had enjoyed every one of these vices and, besides, all of that was over and done with. He didn’t mind the dying as much as the wait.
To be truthful, he had been ready for it since his wife died four years prior. Theirs had been an arranged marriage. Her family was marrying up, but any marriage into the third oldest peerage in the Empire would be marrying up. She was of minor nobility on one of the outer planets, so the marriage brought her family prestige and access to business and the government power on Zelenka while his family became involved in one of the largest businesses in that outer region. Arranged marriages were not as ironclad as in years prior, so either of them could have called off the event, but the simple fact was they had loved each other and had enjoyed a long and caring relationship. He had loved her intensely for all those years, but after she was gone, even he was surprised at the ways in which he missed her.
His family’s ancestral home, Haven Hill, had been his favorite place in the universe. After all, many generations of his family had been born here. He had been born here, his son and daughter had been born here, and his grandson had been born here. He had roamed the nearby hills and fields as a boy and headed the estate as a man. He always wanted to be at Haven Hill and had assumed it was because this was his lifetime home. But, somewhere along the way, this perception had changed without him even realizing it. He now knew he had wanted to be home because she had been here. When she was gone, he found the estate filled with memories of her and so started spending less and less time at home. The day-to-day estate business was run by professionals so his loss of interest had no effect on the business side. Rather ironically, members of the family may come and go but Haven Hill goes on. For years after her death he had spent less time here, but after he was diagnosed, he returned more and more to this center of his universe. He still left the business side to the professionals, but he took to roaming the hills again on foot or horseback. He fished the streams, cut wood, and watched the sun rise and set. He made peace with himself and his life.
He had few regrets but those few were significant. His first regret was he was leaving no direct family heirs to his title. He had two brothers and one sister, so there were nieces and nephews and the family lineage would go on, but not due to him. One of his siblings would inherit the title, the ancestral house, and the adjacent lands. The man had done many good things in his life. He had supported charities, and helped push the Aurora Government to fund various programs to help people, places, and animals. He had scholarships, hospital buildings, and research grants named after him. There were people who would miss him. However, he would leave no living person behind from his immediate family. There would be nobody to receive his most cherished possessions. Nobody to recall the private moments or the family holiday customs. There was no one left who had been there in the private times. There was no one with the personal memories of the family. His family.
His second regret was the relationship he had had with his daughter. His son, Keith, had been a fine boy who had grown into a fine young man. His daughter, Aberdene, had been a wild one from the day of her birth. As a young woman, she rebelled against authority and her privileged life style. She railed about the nobility running roughshod over the remainder of society. She ranted about slavery being a contributor to many fortunes including their own. His wife had subscribed it to the idealism of youth and tended to assume she would grow out of it. However, he had argued with her endlessly. Their relationship was so strained there were times they couldn’t be in the same room together. At age eighteen, Keith had gone to The Academy. One of his academy-study foursome was another fine young man named Ramsey Lindstrom, and Keith had brought him to Haven Hill after their first year. Aberdene and Ramsey became an instant couple. The fiery idealist and straight-arrow midshipman were an odd but solid match. Upon graduation three years later, Keith was commissioned into the Marines and Ramsey into the Navy. Aberdene dropped out of the university. She and Ramsey eloped and were married in a simple ceremony so Aberdene could avoid that “whole nobility wedding event thing.” She followed her new husband off world as he assumed duties as a junior officer on the light cruiser Magellan. Eleven months later, Zachary Lindstrom was born at Haven Hill. Just over a year after that, she returned to Haven Hill with the baby as war exploded when the Odessa Republic invaded the neighboring Romany System. Odessa was a client of the Goldenes Tor, the Goths, and the Romanies who appealed to their own ally, the Aurora Empire, for help. The Navy rushed the few nearby military assets to try to stem the attack. Among these units were Magellan and three Marine battalions. They were thrown haphazardly into the fray with predictable results. Against a superior enemy, the ad hoc force fought to hold the key planet of Romany 3 until relieved. They accomplished their mission but at a cost of 63% casualties. Keith and Ramsey probably died within minutes of each other early in the battle, one aboard ship and the other on the planet below.
When news reached Haven Hill, the results were also predictable. The old man and his wife were heartbroken but showed nothing. The peers lived by many rules. One was “to whom much is given, much is expected.” The nobility had always lost a disproportionate number o
f sons and daughters in the Empire’s wars. Aberdene did not display the stiff upper lip expected of her class. She ranted against the need for the Empire to become involved in far off wars against people who had done nothing against the Empire itself. All the old arguments resurrected themselves. The situation was already bad enough for her parents, and listening to her made it worse. The man made a mistake.
“You constantly complain about the Empire, the nobles, and your position within that class. Yes, you are so much above it all. The system is corrupt and everyone is tainted. It is so very awful. Of course, you have no problem taking full advantage of the lifestyle this system has given you while you heap criticism on it. You’re a hypocrite of the first order.”
Aberdene stopped short in her ranting and stared at him for a long moment. “You are absolutely right. But this is easily corrected.”
With that, she packed up and vanished with her baby son. The old man did nothing for a few weeks in hopes she would return on her own. Then he hired detectives to find her. After that fruitless search, he quietly used all his contacts throughout the Empire to search for her. It was useless, but he and his wife had never given up hope and constantly kept looking for clues. None were ever forthcoming. Their daughter had vanished.
The man’s third great regret was in his public life. As a peer of the realm, he had a seat in the Upper House. He was sympathetic to the Party of the Realm but had voted with the Mercantile Party on several occasions. One of these occasions became an annual event. The Realm Party would introduce a bill banning profits from slavery anywhere in the universe. Although no citizen of the Empire owned slaves within or outside of the Empire, many owned companies or owned stock in companies, which did business outside the Empire and profited from slave labor. It would cost too much money to quickly change the established system, and the Mercantiles always wanted more time to make an orderly transition from such heinous practices. Every year, Mercantile party members would swear their companies and the subsidiaries would get out of the business starting next year, always next year, but it never quite happened. The old man voted with them every year even as he came to the conclusion that next year would never come. Now he wished he had voted his conscience from the beginning, business be damned.