“Our experience in Dragon would tend to substantiate that,” Ann agreed.
“How much of this do you have proof of?”
Ann pulled a data-chip from her pocket and placed it on the table. “That’s everything we’ve seen, heard, or surmised, Andy. And it’s not enough.”
Andrew sat back and thought, then picked up his communicator and dialed a number. “Steve? It’s Andy. Any chance you could drift over to my office? Thanks. See you in a few minutes.” He hung up the phone and smiled at his sister. “Now, while we’re waiting, tell me about this ship of yours.”
Fifteen minutes later, Secretary of the Interior Stephen Parnell walked in. “What’s so important, Andy?”
“Steve, have you ever met my little sister, Annette?”
Secretary Parnell froze. “Annette Stevenson?”
“Mister Secretary,” Ann said, nodding her head deeply.
“If the stories I’ve been hearing about you are true, you share a lot of characteristics with your brother, Missus Stevenson.”
“Now there’s no call for that, Steve,” Andrew said with a laugh. “Steve, what can you tell us about the investigation into Amberson’s?”
“Not much beyond what her husband supplied,” he answered, cutting his gaze back to Ann.
“There’s more,” Ann said. “They are trying to kill my husband and crew.”
“Oh, come now, they’d hardly—”
“They tried to load a bomb on my ship in Dragon,” Ann interrupted. “There have been several other incidents as well.”
“I hadn’t heard about that. Was anyone hurt?”
“Not on my ship, but the bomb was detonated after we left. I don’t know how many people were killed, but I doubt many survived the destruction of the Green Dragon Eight Space Dock.”
“Oh, God damn them to hell,” Secretary Parnell snarled. “I hadn’t heard about any trouble in Dragon. I’m sorry. Is there anything else?”
“Yes. You’d better get to them before I do.” Ann stood and smiled up at her brother. “Any messages for Mom?”
“I’ll see her before you do. I’m going to Hobson’s in four days.”
“I have to get back to my ship. Andy, Secretary Parnell, be careful with those people. They aren’t very civilized.” She smiled and left the two men staring at her back.
“They aren’t civilized?” Andrew asked as the door closed. “She’s right, Steve. You had better get them before she does. I don’t want to visit her in prison for the rest of her life.”
“She wouldn’t really—”
“Like hell she wouldn’t. You know my family.”
Stephen took the data chip and went back to his own office.
*
The Admiral Ann’s Revenge left Atlanta orbit with a hold full of paperwork. Crates full of real, solid, dead-tree paperwork. It was just about the only thing the Confederacy’s Capital Planet exported.
Ann was quiet, and Sterling spent most of a day trying to get her to talk. Just before they went to bed she looked at him and sighed. “Sterling, I know I’m not very good company right now. I just wish there was more I could do to keep you safe.”
Sterling wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her hair. “You have to let your brother and the rest of the government deal with Amberson’s.”
“I couldn’t leave it at that, Sterling. You know there are several people I’ve crossed over the years, and many more who’ve crossed me. I keep pretty good track of them, but I had to search the government computers to verify the location of one of them. Then I sent her a note.”
“What kind of note?” Sterling asked as he eased his embrace.
“A reminder that pissing me off isn’t a healthy thing to do.”
*
A force of thirty Confederate Security officers marched into the Amberson Tower sixteen days later. “Stand up and keep your hands in plain sight,” the leader ordered as he approached the security desk.
“You can’t—”
“You will keep your hands in plain sight or you will be arrested for obstruction of justice,” the leader of the security officers snapped. “Stand up and step away from the panel. We have warrants for the arrest of twenty members of the Amberson Cartel Board of Directors. If you attempt to warn them so that they may escape, you will be arrested and charged.”
The security guard put his hands up and pushed back from the panel. “I only work here, and the pay isn’t that good. I’ll do whatever you say.”
Two of the ConfedSec officers took over the security panel. “The lobby is secure, sir.”
“Very well,” the leader said and led the rest of his force to the elevators.
It was too much to hope that no one would warn the board of directors, and several of them were trying to escape via the hoverpad on the roof, but the four armed Confederate Security fighters orbiting the tower had the Amberson pilots sitting on their hands. No amount of bluster, threats, or bribes was getting any of them off the ground under those conditions.
Not all of the directors had fled. The chairwoman in particular remained in her office. She was reviewing some paperwork when the security men burst through her door.
“Harriet O’Riley Ryan,” the leader said as he strode forward, “you are under arrest for conspiracy to commit interstellar piracy, and conspiracy to commit murder.”
“I think not, lad,” she replied.
The security officer frowned. “I don’t care what you think.”
“You should. Ye’ll have a lot more paperwork to do now.”
The man stopped and looked at his men, then back at the woman. “Stand up and keep your hands in plain sight.”
The chairwoman smiled and shook her head. “âTis out of the question, young man. Me legs won’ hold me anymore.”
“I beg your pardon?”
She smiled, but then a spasm of pain made her grimace. “Perish powder is painless. My ass.” She spasmed again, and collapsed. The two men and four women of the security team that had been assigned to arrest the chairwoman rushed forward, but it was too late. The powerful combination of drugs she’d taken had no known antidote.
On her desk was a message that made little sense.
“Harry, remember what I told you in Aldebaran?”
ARF
*
“âTis over,” the man in Galway muttered. “ConfedSec just took down the Amberson Cartel.”
“How? How could things have gotten so far out of hand?” the woman asked.
“It would seem that Harriet didn’t handle the incidents in Hobson’s and Dragon very well.”
The woman walked across the room, shaking her head. “Who could do this to us? Who has the power? Who has the resources? Who has the audacity to move so strongly against us?”
“âTis my understanding,” the man replied as he moved behind the bar, “that it was the survivors from the Jolly Jane incident. Harriet moved against them, and somehow they struck back.” He paused to take a sip of his whiskey. “One o’ the crew married, or I should say remarried, Admiral Annette Stevenson. He was listed as Navigator Silver Llewellyn Garand on the Jolly Jane, but now he’s using the name Sterling Silver Stevenson. They’d been divorced for a decade, but now they’re back together on a ship called the Admiral Ann’s Revenge. But it was her brother who swung the ax.”
“Her brother?” the woman asked.
“Our old friend, Secretary Fairmont.”
“Fairmont again!” she exclaimed, throwing up her hands. “His mother somehow won the Flaming ‘O’ away from Pahna Mah, and now his sister has brought down a three-hundred-year-old enterprise. What do they have against us?”
“It might have something to do with Harriet trying to kill them so many times.”
*
Ann listened to the news of the fall of the Amberson Board impassively. Seven members of the board had managed to commit suicide before ConfedSec could apprehend them. The rest were pleading not guilty, shouting their innocence to the new
s people at every opportunity.
Amberson’s had been seized by the government, and a new board of directors had been appointed by the Treasury Department to straighten out the mess. With over thirty thousand employees throughout the confederacy, the government couldn’t let Amberson’s crumble.
Ann went to her personal computer and opened a secure file, then deleted it. She’d sent the hardcopy message by private courier under an assumed name, but it was a message that only one person could have sent. A person Harriet Ryan had crossed decades in the past. One of the few people who knew enough about her to destroy her, and vicious enough to actually do it.
Annette Rachael Fairmont.
Chapter 13
THE OLD EUROPEAN HEGEMONY FRIGATE ARISTOPHANES slid through space like a barracuda, her long silver shape glimpsed only momentarily when the light of a star reflected off her skin. The rest of the time she reflected the black of space and was essentially invisible. That was as it should be as far as her captain was concerned. He’d spent a lot of money bringing her back from oblivion and refitting her engineering spaces, but it had been worth every penny to make her operational again.
The Aristophanes had been lost in one of the final battles between the European Hegemony and the Confederate Star Systems. The short, vicious war that had erupted when the Tigris and Caspian systems had seceded in order to join the Confederacy had been pitifully one sided. The Confederacy had sixty planets: the Hegemony had nine. Now they only had seven. It had been happenstance that a holiday jaunt on the Apollo Combine’s runabout had brought the Aristophanes and a former ensign together again.
The ensign had arrived just six weeks before that terrible day in space over Tigris. A Confederate torpedo had struck Aristophanes from behind and sent her spinning into the outer reaches of the system. He’d been one of only sixty survivors of her crew of four hundred. Forty years of peace and prosperity had changed him, made him a rich and powerful man, but nothing could erase the memories of those days.
His name was Perry Caudell, Vice President of Manufacturing for the Apollo Combine’s asteroid mining operation. He’d devoted six years and over a hundred million credits of his own money to the rehabilitation of the Aristophanes. Now she was his private yacht. More importantly, the Aristophanes was his personal, fully armed frigate.
Captain Caudell sat in his command chair and sipped coffee from a mug that had been recovered from the engine room when the Aristophanes had first been found. It bore the ship’s name and crest on one side, but the other was scorched and crazed with fissures in the glaze. The mug was another survivor of that horrible day.
“We are entering the Maori System, Sir,” his executive officer reported.
“Very well, Pio. Maintain emissions control. We emerged far enough out that we would have been hard to detect even if the star wasn’t between us and the planet. Let’s not give them any hint that we’re here.”
“Aye, Sir. All transmitters are locked down and running lights are secured.”
“I have waited nearly fifty years for this, Pio. Fifty long, bitter years waiting for revenge that I never really thought would be mine,” Captain Caudell said as he gazed at the forward viewscreen. “The Confederacy will pay for what they did to me, to the EHN and our people.”
“Aye, Sir,” Piotr Mierzejewski said as he turned back toward the view screen. His experience with the ‘Feds had been even less pleasant than the captain’s. He’d been blown into space when the cruiser he was serving on was hit by a Confederate missile. His suit had held and he’d spun out of control through the Caspian System for three days before an EHN cutter had chased down his suit beacon and rescued him. The certain knowledge that he was going to slowly suffocate because the greedy damn ‘Feds were interfering where they weren’t wanted had left an indelible hatred of the Confederacy in his soul.
Most of the crew had similar reasons for being there. The Confederated Star Systems’ Stellar Navy policy of using minimal weapons had left many survivors. A lot of bitter men and women who wanted to strike back at the Confederacy any way they could.
“Sir,” the communications operator said from her station, “I’m picking up radio traffic between the Maori Space Traffic Control and a freighter called the Admiral Ann’s Revenge. She’s out-system bound and headed in our general direction.”
“Excellent,” Captain Caudell said as he sat back in his chair. “Pio, alter course to put us in her path, but try to keep the star between us and the planet. We’ve got to reverse our velocity and I don’t want any of their traffic controllers to see us.”
“Aye, Sir,” Executive Officer Mierzejewski said with a certain relish. Having no more important job in the control room, he would take the weapon’s station himself. If the freighter wouldn’t surrender, he’d destroy her.
*
The Admiral Ann’s Revenge was boosting out of the Maori System on yet another run between the systems of the Confederacy.
Captain Stevenson and her crew were in good spirits as they left the planet Maori. “I can’t believe our luck, Captain,” Denise said from the Navigator’s station. “A shipment of Maori flame wood to New Frankfurt. The stuff’s so light we may as well be running empty.”
“Agreed, Nav,” Captain Ann said as she sipped her tea. “What I don’t understand is why they wanted whole logs, but ours is not to question why.”
“Ours is but to do and buy,” Sterling said from the helmsman’s position.
“With the price they’re paying for this shipment we’ll be doing plenty of buying. We should clear fifty-six thousand credits. Running this light is saving us a lot of fuel,” Ann said as she punched buttons on her console. “Thirty-one hundred credits can make for a hell of a shopping spree.”
Sterling laughed at his wife’s expression. As an admiral, Ann had been among the top paid people in the Navy, but she had never made the kind of money she was making these days. Now she was the captain and co-owner of her own ship, and after just a year her personal account was well over ten thousand credits. She’d also discovered the joy of shopping for the sake of shopping. Sterling had plans on how he was going to repay their Second Mate for that revelation.
The Admiral Ann’s Revenge had been underway for seven days and reached a velocity of eight percent the speed of light when the bolt from a powerful gamma ray laser burned past them, immediately followed by a radio transmission. “Admiral Ann’s Revenge, this is your only warning. Do not reply to this transmission. Do not attempt to call for help. Cut your acceleration and prepare to be boarded. If you fail to comply, you will be destroyed.”
Sterling said, “What the f—?Ann?” as he scanned the surrounding space.
“Find him. He’s got to be close.” Ann pushed the stud on her armrest that opened the ship-wide address system. “All hands, we have been given a warning shot and hailed by an unknown ship and told to stand by to be boarded. They did not identify themselves, so I am assuming the worst. All hands to battle stations. All hands to battle stations. Get your suits on and tie your umbilicals into the ship. Save your independent supplies. Move, people, and report when you are at your stations. Prepare for free-fall in thirty seconds.” Turning to Sterling, she nodded. “Secure main engines.”
Sterling did as he was instructed, and fastened his seatbelt to keep himself in place. “Main engines are secure. You first, Ann,” he said as he scanned the area around them from the Navigator’s post. “Denise already went to suit up.”
“Sterling-”
“Go. I’ll follow as soon as Denise gets back to take over.”
Ann was just sealing her helmet to her suit when Sterling arrived in their quarters. Neither of them said anything. Ann closed her eyes and thought, Lords of Space, donât let this be the end. I just got him back as she started helping Sterling squirm into his suit and stuffed his helmet over his head. Once they were both ready she led the way back to control.
“I have him, Ma’am,” Denise said as soon as they arrived. “Coming up fro
m one-eight-six by one-seven-seven. The computer says it’s a European Hegemony frigate from the last war. If they have a full loadout, they out-gun us fifty-to-one.”
“Noted,” was all Ann said as she took her seat.
Sterling took his position again and started studying the ship that was rapidly overtaking them. “She’s clean. No markings, no lights. What I can make out of the hull looks new. They should match our velocity in about twenty minutes.”
“Noted.” Ann pushed the stud on her chair and her voice echoed through the ship. “Miss Carter to Control. Miss Carter to Control.” Then she began typing a sequence into her command console. Across the control room, a new panel hummed to life.
Amanda floated through the hatch just a few moments later. “Captain?”
“Weapons,” Ann said as she pointed toward the console on the far side of control. “Run a system’s check, but keep your main power off until I say to deploy. No active sensors or targeting. Your gunnery scores were close to the best I’ve ever seen. Let’s see you do better.”
“Aye, aye, Ma’am,” Amanda snapped with a smile as she turned toward her panel.
The raider cut her main engines and used her maneuvering thrusters to match velocities with the Admiral Ann’s Revenge. Once the ships were nearly at rest relative to one another, the radio came to life again. “Admiral Ann’s Revenge, prepare to be boarded. Disengage your navigational shields. Open your personnel hatch and stand clear. Any resistance will result in the immediate death of your entire crew.”
*
The freighter’s response was almost immediate. The navigational shields that protected the ships from small debris in space came down, and a dark circle appeared on the side of the freighter with a flashing red light beside it.
Captain Caudell smiled and signaled the communications operator to open the narrow-band transmitter again. “Admiral Ann’s Revenge, you and your fellows will learn what it means to be robbed of what is rightfully yours, as you robbed us of Tigris and Caspian. Your vaunted Navy will never be able to catch us, because we’ll never let them. We won’t let them trap us in systems we’re trying to defend this time. This time it’s your systems they will have to defend against us.”
Inadvertent Adventures Page 10
