Uncommon Purpose (The Hope Island Chronicles Book 1)

by P J Strebor

  Lt Jakovich followed Waugh onto the bridge. The marine wore a camouflaged uniform and a light sidearm. Dealing with a league registered vessel required them to follow a conservative doctrine. League Trader was innocent until proven guilty. Armor and heavy weapons were discarded to avoid possible claims of provocative overreaction.

  Commodore Waugh nodded to the D-O who instantly opened the channel to the suspect vessel. “League Trader this is Truculent.”

  “This is Captain Maloof,” said the gruff voice.

  “Captain, open your boat bay doors and prepare to receive our boarding party.”

  “We are having a small technical problem with the doors commodore,” he said uncertainly. “It might take some time to get them open.”

  Waugh shook her head. “Want me to open it for you, Maloof?”

  After a short delay Captain Maloof replied sullenly. “That will not be necessary commodore. We have managed to correct the problem.”

  “How convenient,” Waugh said. “Truculent out.”

  She eyed the Auxiliary Ops Station. “Care to stretch your legs, Ensign Saunders?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “LT what is your threat assessment for the League Trader?”

  “Minimal, skipper. They know they can't escape.”

  “In that case, Ensign Saunders, you may as well take a middy with you. Got anyone in mind?”

  A spark flickered along Nathan's spine when Leo grinned at him.

  “I believe Midshipman Telford could be coerced into volunteering, ma’am.”

  “Mister Telford?”

  “Aye-aye, captain.”

  “Very well. You two know the drill. Remove your armor and report to the boat bay in four minutes.”

  “Aye-aye, captain.” Nathan dashed to the bridge hatch with Leo on his heels.

  CHAPTER 43

  Through the landing boat's forward view-plates Nathan watched League Trader grow rapidly as they approached. The Chief of the Boat, Senior Chief Petty Officer Scaroni, peered into the cabin. “One minute, LT.”

  “Very well, COB.” Jakovich unbuckled and turned to the junior officers.

  “Mister Telford, you are along on this little jaunt as an observer only. Understood?”

  “Aye-aye, LT,” Nathan said.

  “Very well,” she said. “Sergeant Redpath, prepare for embarkation.”

  Redpath nodded and headed aft.

  “We’re not expecting trouble from these people but we take no chances.” Jakovich set her eyes on both Nathan and Leo. “Keep your eyes open and follow procedures.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Leo answered for them both.

  As the marine stepped to the back of the boat a slight bump marked their landing. The port and starboard hatches slid open. Three 'droids leaped out of each hatchway. They carried standard sidearms still sheathed in their holsters.

  Apart from two shabby landing boats the bay was deserted. Nathan detected movement from behind a clear panel at the end of the bay. Undoubtedly League Trader's Landing Control Center. A tall, narrow woman stepped from the LCC.

  Sergeant Redpath stopped before her and a brief exchange took place. Two 'droids accompanied him while he followed the officer. Suspect Line Runners had been known to kill boarding parties by dropping the boat bay's environmental force field.

  “LT, the boat bay is secured,” Redpath reported.

  The LT stepped through the hatchway. Nathan dutifully followed behind Leo who stayed on her heels. Unlike Truculent, League Trader's overheads were nearly two meters from the deck. The marines, who were a good head taller than Nathan, would undoubtedly appreciate the headroom.

  “Commander O'Brall,” the Bretish officer said. “First Officer of the League Trader.” As protocol demanded she shook hands with the marine.

  “Lieutenant Jakovich of Truculent. I wish to speak with your captain.”

  “Certainly lieutenant. He is awaiting you on the bridge.”

  Sandwiched between the LT and three 'droids in front of them, Redpath and three 'droids behind them, Nathan followed the procession forward. The midships lift took them to the bridge, three decks up.

  The command deck was a large cluttered space showing clear signs of neglect. A tenacious stench made Nathan's nose twitch.

  Captain Maloof was no taller than Nathan but easily three times his weight. A fine coating of sweat glistened on his pasty forehead.

  “Your captain locked her weapons onto my ship,” he complained. “I demand an explanation.”

  “You should be used to it by now, Maloof,” the LT said.

  The Bretish captain's brow creased for a moment before his piggish eyes widened. “Lieutenant … Jakovich? Yes?”

  “Nothing wrong with your memory.”

  “When was your visit? Two years ago?”

  “Yes,” she said, “I was assigned to the Monitor Arrant at the time.”

  “I remember. Another trigger-happy Athenian captain. You found nothing then and you’ll find nothing now. We are a legitimate Bretish registered trading vessel.”

  “Captain Maloof, we can take care of our business in a speedy fashion if you are willing to cooperate.”

  “Of course lieutenant, anything you want.”

  “Thank you,” the marine said pleasantly. “Firstly, I want to see a copy of your flight plan which you claim to have filed before departing Bretish space.”

  Maloof rubbed at a whiskered chin. “Unfortunately we suffered a major technical malfunction to our navigation computer. The copy you request was inadvertently wiped from our records during our attempt to bring the system back online.”

  “Let me take a wild stab in the dark, captain. The same difficulty wiped all navigational information from your computer?” The LT’s mocking tone revealed her opinion of the Bret captain. Nathan suppressed a derisive snort.

  “Regrettably so, lieutenant.” Maloof’s outstretched hands punctuated his obvious lie. “We have only recently solved the problem. We were heading for the safety of the Ibis Nebula to finish repairs when your ship attacked us. We suspected you were a headhunter and took flight.”

  “Are your external sensors operating, captain?”

  Maloof's brow wrinkled. “Yes.”

  “And you mistook a monitor for a headhunter?”

  “We were startled. To be frank, I don’t believe your captain's action in locking her weapons onto my ship is in the best interests of intersystem relations between our two societies. We are, after all, both members of the League of Allied worlds, are we not?”

  Nathan held back a sneer. Maloof could make a snake oil merchant blush.

  “I would like to see your manifests, captain.”

  “And I would like to show them to you, lieutenant. Unfortunately …”

  “Let me guess,” Jakovich said dryly, “computer ate your manifests?”

  “Regrettably so.”

  Now things will get interesting. Without conclusive proof they had crossed over from the Northern Quarantine Zone, League Trader would slip through their fingers. A hefty fine for failing to lodge a flight plan might be the most they could get them for.

  “Very well, captain,” the LT said wearily. “I guess we'll have to do this the old fashioned way.”

  ***

  Leo rubbed at the knot that had grown at back of his neck. What a bloody day. League Trader’s cargo holds had undergone a painstaking inspection. Lt Jakovich brought all twenty-four 'droids aboard together with six supervising CPO’s. They opened and inspected every cargo container on the ship. They checked for the usual false bottoms and found nothing. The LT ordered a check of the crew's quarters, including the officers, for contraband. They found nothing. They sensor swept League Trader from bow to stern and discovered no incriminating evidence. League Trader might well be what she claimed to be. Or these could be the cleverest smugglers in the business.

  Three hours had passed since the inspection began. Leo slumped ont
o the cold deck next to Nathan.

  Maloof and his first officer stood to one side of the bay observing the proceedings. His oily smile displayed an overly smug confidence.

  Nathan stood and stretched. From his thoughtful expression, and lengthy silence, Leo could almost hear his mind working the problem. Nathan paced for a while, stopped, stared at the overhead, then slapped his forehead with an open hand.

  “Nathan?”

  “Stupid.”

  “What?”

  “Four years of being put into a box at the academy and this occurs to me now?” Nathan spoke to the overhead as if addressing another part of himself. He dropped to his knees and locked eyes with Leo.

  “Ensign, I know I’m only an observer but I think I can contribute more. Because of my background.”

  Leo felt his brow furrow for a moment before the light of understanding came to him.

  “Go on.”

  “As you may know, I was born on a vessel not dissimilar to this one.” Leo kept his expression neutral. “During my time in the north the crew hid contraband from the guards all over the ship. I only vaguely remember it but I think that experience might be of use here. I don't think the marines are ready to take advice from a middy at this stage. So why don't we take a wander and see what we can find?” Leo eyed him warily. “If we find nothing, no harm done. But if we stumble across something germane to this investigation we’ll be able to pique the LT’s interest. Yes?”

  “Where do we begin?”

  “Where indeed?” Nathan's glassy eyes stared into the distance for a few seconds. “Let's start in their engine room.”

  “Very well.” They disengaged from what had turned into a congregation of Monitor Corps personnel and 'droids and made their way aft.

  ***

  Nathan panned his sensor pad around League Trader's huge engine room. After making a thorough scan examination of the area he stepped into the reactor room. Even with heavy shielding to protect the crew, residual energy emissions scrambled his sensor readings. Nathan pocketed his pad and scrutinized the base of the reactor.

  As a child aboard the enslaved Bellinda he had regularly hidden precious contraband from the Pruessens. Dark visions of his perilous childhood returned. He pushed aside the sadness that accompanied the ghostly imagery and concentrated on the immediate problem.

  The reactor operated in automatic stand-by mode, producing sufficient power to maintain life support. With the crew insolated, he and Leo were alone in the large compartment.

  “Now if I was illegal contraband where would I hide?” Nathan said to himself. Finding the tools he needed to test his theory he dropped onto his knees and worked his way along the reactor’s base. As he prized the cover plate off, he sensed Leo bristling beside him.

  The cover plate took a concentrated effort to remove. He shone a light into the hollow space finding nothing out of the ordinary. Replacing the cover he moved to the next. Each of the following five cover plates required muscle-straining effort to remove. Behind each he found no cache of illegal contraband. The sixth cover plate was unexpectedly cooperative. That’s more like it.

  As he had done with the others he shone the light into the recess. He examined the cavity in exacting detail. He found nothing. Despite proof to the contrary his best instincts warred against the evidence. Nathan lay on his stomach and continued to stare into the darkness. After a minute he put the light aside and reached inside. Running his fingers around the perimeter of the cavity he detected nothing but a smooth interior lining. His fingers brushed a tiny flange he knew should not be there. Nathan clawed at the thin strip of metal until it slid from its housing.

  “Pay dirt.” Nathan extracted the gray colored cylinder.

  “I'll be damned.” Leo gasped. Nathan pried at the lid. “Hold on a minute, Nathan. We don't know what's in there, do we?” Nathan shrugged impatiently before reconsidering. Leo was right. Death in large doses could await the reckless investigator. Besides, had they followed correct procedure according to the law? Nathan thought they had, but the LT would be the final arbiter of their unauthorized sortie.

  “I think it's time to call in the marines,” Leo said.

  Nathan nodded with short, rapid motions. “I should return this to where we found it, don't you think?”

  “Good thinking, middy.”

  Leo keyed his LM. “Marine one - Saunders.”

  Two more times he tried to contact the LT. “Damn reactor interference is scrambling my signal.”

  “Very well, you go and get the LT and I will take care of the evidence.”

  “Aye-aye, sir.” Leo grinned before sprinting away.

  When the hatch snapped shut behind Leo, Nathan strode from the reactor room and stood the cylinder on a work bench. His sensor readings duly noted that the cylinder measured thirty three centimeters in length with a diameter of six point two centimeters. It was composed of duraloy composite and weighed one point eight kilos, including the contents. The readings detected nothing further so the stubborn mystery remained unsolved. He considered scanning it further away from the core but chose to leave such in-depth investigations to the marines.

  A sudden cautionary stab of pain flared from Nathan’s back. He pivoted to face the danger, his right hand reaching for the sidearm that sat on his left hip. In the hatchway Maloof aimed down the barrel of a blunt nosed needle gun. Nathan's right hand froze, well short of his sidearm. Maloof jerked the gun up. Nathan slowly raised both hands. The needle gun might contain a harmless tranquilizer or a far more malignant concoction. Damn, I wish I was still wearing my armor.

  Maloof eyed the canister in Nathan’s raised left hand. His callous gaze fell onto the midshipman.

  “What am I to do with you, boy?”

  “Surrender?” Nathan had a fair idea what Maloof had in mind for him. Smuggling drugs into league space carried, at best, a mandatory life sentence.

  The Bret captain snorted without humor and gestured with his free hand. “Step that way.”

  Maloof guided him through the bowels of the engineering department until they arrived at the superstructure and the adjacent air lock. Now it made sense. When they found Nathan’s lifeless body floating in space, the natural assumption would be that a novice officer had wandered off alone and gotten himself killed. But if he was missing his sidearm it might provoke suspicion.

  “Open it.”

  Nathan complied while every fiber of his being tensed for attack. He needed an edge, a small distraction.

  “Step into the airlock.”

  Nathan walked meekly into the lock then faced the Bretish captain.

  Maloof eyed the cylinder in Nathan's raised left hand.

  “Give it to me, boy.”

  Nathan tossed the cylinder to him, in a high arc. He kept his right hand raised but allowed his left arm to follow the arc. Maloof tracked the falling container, waited, caught it after a minor juggling act and clutched it to his ample stomach. The glee ran from his face. Nathan had drawn his sidearm with his left hand. He fired once, hitting Maloof squarely in the chest. Captain Maloof and the cylinder hit the deck together.

  Nathan stared at the inert body and smiled.

  “Don't call me boy.”

  CHAPTER 44

  Date: 12th August, 320 ASC.

  Position: Monitor Truculent, on station: Ibis Nebula.

  Status: Alert stand down.

  Waugh considered the report submitted by Lt Clementine Jakovich. The Bretish vessel League Trader was boarded and searched for contraband without initial success. Ensign Saunders reported to Jakovich that he may have stumbled upon something of interest.

  Telford awaited the marines in engineering and directed them to the starboard airlock. Maloof‘s body lay sprawled on the deck. Midshipman Telford explained that the Bretish captain had pulled a needle gun on him. He said that he had been ‘obliged to defend himself.’ Rusty Redpath detailed a ‘droid to carry Maloof’s unconscious body to the
brig where he was corralled with the rest of League Trader's crew. When he awoke from the stun blast he would find his circumstances had taken a decidedly downward turn.

  Telford explained how he and Saunders had discovered some anomalous readings in the reactor room. The LT detected no such readings from her sensor pad. The midshipman could not explain the irregularity but urged the LT to examine the indicated cover plate. Maloof would not pull a weapon on a Monitor Corps officer if he had nothing to hide. Telford, obviously feigning surprise, removed a long gray cylinder from the hidden recess. Waugh shook her head.

  Jakovich believed if one illegal item could elude their sensor sweeps so could others. Because of his sterling sensor reading abilities she put Telford in charge of the search team. He proved, in her words, to have a unique approach to unearthing contraband. His methods had little to do with sensor readings.

  Off the record Lt Jakovich had more to add. “He broke protocol by not checking in with me first.”

  “Did he offer an explanation for his actions?” Waugh asked.

  “Telford said he did not wish to bother me with what was essentially a hunch. I suppose that’s a reasonable excuse. But I suspect there was more going on between those young gentlemen than they're letting on. Don't get me wrong, skipper, I think they both have tremendous potential but going off by themselves that way could have ended badly. Rusty checked Maloof's needle gun. The darts contained a lethal concentration of curare.

  “Telford said he ‘had been obliged to defend himself', but skirted the issue of how he brought down someone who had gotten the jump on him. He has guts, but only a fool stares down a needle gun lightly. He's no fool so …” Jakovich shrugged.

  As Waugh knew from Telford’s academy record his firearm's proficiency was good but not that good. Nevertheless, the middy had drawn on Maloof using his weak left hand and hit the target dead center. Perhaps Telford, like any true professional, needed an adrenaline boost to function at his best.

  “Do you wish to include these … irregularities, in your official report, Clementine?”