by PJ Strebor
“My God, what did you do to her?”
Orson stared at the doctor. “I want to speak with Captain Coppins.” He gestured to the wasted body. “Get rid of that, and get me another body.”
“What kind of monstrosity are you? She was a young girl for God’s sake.”
“Another one, doctor.”
Sometime later the doctor returned with Coppins and Reinhardt. The two officers looked on as the girl’s body was loaded onto a gurney. Orson noted that Reinhardt walked with a limp.
“Look at what he’s done.” The doctor’s shocked tone irritated Orson. “He murdered her. Then he asks me to get him someone else to murder. What am I going to do?”
“If I were you, doctor,” Reinhardt said, “I’d get him another body.”
“No, I won’t do it,” the doctor said. “I’m taking this to the authorities.”
“Do you have any idea who this man is?” Reinhardt asked.
“He’s a murderer.”
“Maybe, but he’ll never stand trial and for your sins you’ll have the HRS crawling up your ass.”
The doctor gaped at Reinhardt as if he was less than human.
It took two more feeble volunteers to bring Orson back to normalcy. Two patients with terminal illnesses had barely filled his cup.
With both officers hovering by his bed Orson sat up. “What news of Telford?”
“None,” Reinhardt said. “There’s been zero sightings of him.”
Although weakened by his convalescence he reached out, searching for the man who had come perilously close to ending his life. The effort cause him to nearly pass out, but he located him.
“He’s still heading west. Captain Coppins, we need to get after him. Prepare your boats.”
The two officers looked at one another then back at him.
Coppins shrugged. “There was an incident. We have two working boats and two are still being repaired. We should have all four boats ready for action in two weeks.”
“Incident?”
“Somehow, Telford commandeered E 692 then used it to attack my squadron.”
Orson groaned. “We don’t have two weeks. I want to leave here now.”
Coppins thought about it for a moment. “I suppose we could salvage parts from one to use on the other,” Coppins said. “That would give us a three to one advantage.”
“How soon?” Orson asked.
“I couldn’t see it being done in under five days,” Coppins said.
“You’ve got four. Make it work,” Orson said. “One other thing, Captain. Arrange transport back to Midway for Captain Reinhardt.”
“I can be of use,” Reinhardt said.
“Shut your mouth Reinhardt,” Orson said. “You’re a menace and a hindrance to my mission. I want you gone. See to it Coppins.”
“Yes, sir.”
CHAPTER 65
Date: 12th November, 326 ASC.
Position: Planet Spinney. Northern Quarantine Zone.
The three-ship convoy made the journey to Spinney in three days. Moe brought the boat down to an isolated area two-hundred kilometers from the planet’s largest population center. Scans showed sparse pockets of human activity dotted over the world and no habitation around their landing site. Like the rest of the planet it was mostly meager bush-lands surrounded by vast desert regions.
Nathan and Moe took the rickety wooden ladder and stepped onto Adroit’s port dorsal. The senior engineer and two assistants had pried what remained of the upper carapace away and were examining the damage.
“What do you think, Amos?” Moe asked.
Lt Cmdr Tollini stood and wiped sweat from his face with a clean cloth. “It looks worse than it is, Captain. It’s fixable but not without proper repair facilities.”
Nathan remained silent. Adroit was still Moe’s boat.
“Can’t you improvise something?” Moe asked.
“If this was a normal ship, yes. But a monitor is a very precise instrument. You don’t just patch her back together. I’m going to have to pull the entire assembly out to effect repairs. That will take a proper repair hangar.” He stared at Nathan then back to Moe. “They have to have a spaceport here, right? Perhaps they have repair facilities we could use.”
For the first time Moe looked at Nathan.
“It’s your call, Captain,” Nathan said.
***
Lieutenant Commander Amos Tollini, freshly clad in a Pruessen naval uniform, knew what he needed to repair Adroit’s damage. As the Pruessen landing boat approached the Ridges Spaceport, he doubted that he’d find what he needed on a backwater planet like Spinney. He conceded that it was worth a try. Getting the boat home in her current condition would be asking a lot. Still, Telford had gotten them out of worse jams.
After receiving landing clearance, Commander Ryden set the landing boat down next to the largest structure at the spaceport. Although it showed its age, it was large enough to accommodate Adroit.
Telford winked at him as he made his way aft to the landing boat’s starboard hatch. Ryden followed. Tollini couldn’t believe Telford trusted the Pruessen. Yet they seemed to have formed a working partnership of sorts during their many weeks spent together. A camaraderie of mutual survival, perhaps?
Captain Okuma couldn’t join them. The Pruessen navy had stopped crewing their ships with females after the last war.
The three of them strode into the huge hangar and Amos immediately began checking out the place. He sought out and eventually found the tool store but found it locked.
“Good morning gentlemen,” a voice said from behind, “what can I do for you?”
They turned to find a scruffily dressed man whose smile looked to have been recently lubricated. A shyster if ever Amos had seen one.
“And you are?” Nathan asked.
“The name’s Siegert.” The smile didn’t slip, even for an instant. “I run things around here.”
The Pruessen captain held out his hand. “Commander Ryden, Imperial Navy.” Siegert’s smile remained in place as he shook Ryden’s hand. “We are in need of repair facilities and you appear to have the only one on this world. We want to inspect your tool store.”
“Certainly,” Siegert said. “Out on the edge of nowhere we don’t get much business but will service the needs of anyone who needs it.” His smile widened. “And can pay, of course.” He opened the store and Amos began inspecting the selection of appliances. After ten minutes he’d made his evaluation. He was about to inform Telford when he remembered to address the Pruessen Commander.
“What do you think, Commander?” Ryden asked.
“Most of the equipment is old,” Amos said. “I mean last war old.”
“Yes, it’s old but sturdy,” Siegert said. “This facility was built by the Empire during the last war. It was the Republic then but no matter. We’re so isolated that the war passed us by. The equipment has seen very little use so it’s in top flight condition.”
“Can you make it work, Amos?” Nathan asked.
He thought about it for a few seconds. “I might be able to tinker something together but I’d need to upgrade most of the tech. This gear is ancient.” Even by Pruessen standards.
Siegert’s smile tightened. “I don’t know about tinkering with my equipment, it’s of the highest quality.”
“My chief engineer says it’s shit,” Ryden said. “That’s right isn’t it, Commander?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“He can upgrade your tech so that you’ll be left with a better product. That’s a win for you Siegert.”
Still maintaining his smile the conman mused over the possibilities. “Very well,” he said. “I have a workforce of skilled engineers to take care of your needs.”
“Our people will carry out repairs,” Ryden said. “We only need to rent your facility and its crappy tech for, how long Commander?”
“Two to three weeks, sir.”
“Three weeks,” R
yden finished.
“Very well,” Siegert said, “rental for the hangar and equipment for three weeks will set you back sixty thousand dollars.”
“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” Amos blurted.
“No, I’m quite serious. Of course if you think me unreasonable you can always go elsewhere, can’t you?” Amos wanted to beat the smile from the fool’s face.
“You say you’ll deal with anyone?” Nathan asked.
“If they have the money, yes,” said smiley.
“Including the PLF?”
Siegert’s smile tensed. “The Peoples Liberation Front? No, of course not. That’s illegal.”
“Captain, intell reports an increase in PLF activity in this sector. Perhaps what this planet needs is a picket force in orbit and a garrison on the ground. What do you think, sir?”
Tollini hid a smile.
“Why, Lieutenant, that sounds like an excellent idea.” They stared at Siegert with bland expressions. His smile finally melted away.
CHAPTER 66
Date: 20th November, 326 ASC.
Position: Planet Spinney. Northern Quarantine Zone.
Nathan, dressed in civilian clothing, met with Fish outside the hangar. Adroit’s supply officer had acquired a small ground-car for his daily excursions into the nearby town of Ravensthorp.
“Morning, Fish,” Nathan said as he slumped into the passenger seat.
“Mornin’, Skip.”
A quick drive across the tarmac before they struck the dirt road. Apart from his errands, Nathan was curious to see if Siegert was an example of Spinney’s population or the exception. A rough dirt road led to the outskirts of the town where it connected to a sealed stretch running the length of the town.
Although the vehicle was sealed, fine dust found its way into the cab. In the ten minute journey to town both he and fish were covered in fine powdery dust.
Stepping from the car Nathan began dusting himself off.
“Skip?” Fish said. “Try this.”
Slipping a coin into the slot Fish pulled down a short circular tube that covered his body from his head to his waist. He pressed a green button beside the slot and a spray of air blew the dust from his clothing and hair.
Nathan gave it a try, noting that a simple high speed fan had been fixed to the top of the cleaner.
“Clever thinking,” he said.
“Yep, one of the townies put me onto it,” Fish said. “There’s one on every block.”
“I’ll leave you to attend to your work,” Nathan said. He found the general wares store without effort and entered. For his crew to be spotted while in Monitor Corps uniforms could invite unwanted attention. From a limited selection of clothing and footwear he managed to find a sufficient range to outfit the crew’s needs.
He dropped them at the car and continued to wander the streets. Within fifteen minutes he’d covered the length of Ravensthorp but not the breadth. As was the norm for country towns, Ravensthorp boasted a number of hotels. During the workday the town drifted into a drowsy, almost abandoned state. No doubt that would change when the working day ended and farm workers arrived to wash the dust from their parched throats.
Fish arrived back at their vehicle at the same time as Nathan. He carried two containers, both sealed air-tight, for the return journey and locked them into the boot.
“Feel like a beer?” Nathan asked.
Around a growing smile Fish said, “Why, Captain, we’re on duty.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Across the road a signed beckoned. ‘Sam and Mae’s’. They stepped into a bar that was cooled by multiple overhead fans. A tad rustic with basic wooden furniture and a bar running the length of the hotel.
“Now this, is my kind of bar,” Fish said.
A large muscular man in his late fifties eyed the newcomers with suspicion.
Nathan slapped a twenty down on the bar.
“I’d like two Oceanian beers, thanks,” Nathan said.
For the first time, Sam, presumably it had to be Sam, smiled. “Oceanian beer? Where do you think you are? The Essen Ritz?”
“What do you recommend?” Fish asked.
“I recommend the only beer we have.”
“Sounds good,” Fish said.
The beers arrived, in large ice cold glasses.
Nathan took an exploratory sip. It wasn’t as bad as he’d feared. He took a deep swallow of the cold sparkling beer, sighing with contentment.
“This isn’t bad at all, Skipper,” Fish said.
“I’ve seen you getting around town,” Sam said to Fish, “but not you.” Sam gestured to Nathan.
“The burden of command,” Nathan said. “My freighter needs maintenance, so we set down at the spaceport.”
“You’re at Ridges? Better watch out for Siegert, he’s a crook’s crook.”
Nathan chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve met him.”
“So, are you the captain?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re kinda young for the job aren’t you?”
“I’m twenty-six,” Nathan said. “And it’s a small freighter. We’re independent traders.”
The barman relaxed and extended his hand. “Welcome to Sam and Mae’s. I’m Sam.”
Nathan shook hands. “Nathan.” He jerked his head. “And that’s Fish.”
“So, how long are you planning to stay?” Sam asked.
“Not sure,” Nathan said.
“Ravensthorp is friendly enough, once people get used to you.”
“Good to know,” Nathan said.
“But every so often we get an unwanted element.” He moved closer and lowered his voice. “PLF.”
“Shit,” Fish said, “those lunatics?”
“Yeah. First time they turned up we didn’t know what to expect. It cost us a lot. Beatings, murders and rape. If you hear a klaxon sound, don’t come into town. It’s our signal for all the women to leave town.”
“Thanks for the heads up, Sam.” He finished his beer. “Time we were getting back.”
“Hey, drop in any time. And bring your crew. All are welcome at Sam and Maes.”
CHAPTER 67
Date: 26th November, 326 ASC.
Position: Planet Spinney. Northern Quarantine Zone.
Nathan stepped into the hangar and examined the scene. Two weeks into repairs and the upper and lower carapaces for the port stealth engine had been expertly repaired so that they looked like new. The blades were proving to be far more troublesome. Precision engineering Tollini had pointed out, took longer. The complete stealth engine housing had been removed from the hull and pieces of it were strewn across the hangar’s floor. Two of the blades had been repaired and Nathan couldn’t detect a single imperfection.
Every entrance to the hangar was guarded by crewmembers carrying pulsar rifles. Nathan had ordered four more crew, dressed in civilian clothing, onto the roof to give warning of any trespassers. This far from town nobody had bothered them.
Approaching the senior engineer, Nathan had the same question in mind.
“Mornin’ Skipper,” Tollini said, turning from his work.
“Good morning, Amos. How’s it looking?”
Tollini pulled a tired face. “You just missed, Captain Okuma, so I’ll tell you what I told her. If we don’t strike any more surprises from the obsolete square head tech, I should be ready to reinstall the engine in a week.”
“I know you’re doing your best, Amos, but every day we spend here increases our chances of discovery.” Nathan sighed. This was Tollini’s show and Nathan’s interference only slowed the progress. “I’ll let you get back to work.”
Tollini nodded while Nathan left and walked up Adroit’s fantail and into the boat. With the exception of the engineering staff the rest of the crew had a chance to get some well-deserved rest. Fish had resupplied them from the nearby town so K pack rations were mercifully struck from the menu. That alone had i
mproved morale overnight.
Nathan stepped into the officer’s mess. As if by mystical clairvoyance CPO Driscoll appeared at the counter.
“Mornin’ skip,” he said, “what can I tempt you with today?”
“Anything but salmonella would be a fine change.” He sighed and shook his head. “Wadda you got?”
“Fish went shopping again yesterday and brought back one of the local delicacies.”
“Until you get your hands on it,” Nathan said. “What’s it taste like. And don’t say chicken you food fucker.”
“It’s a broth that is both tasty and cleansing to the palate. Game?”
“I suppose I have to die of something.”
Nathan took the bowl and joined Moe.
“Good morning, Captain.”
“And to you, Captain,” Moe replied. She had opted for the broth, her bowl half-empty. “It’s truly foul.”
Hmm, that good? The aroma was pleasing and the flavor gave his taste buds a wakeup call.
“So, another week.”
“Plus refit time,” Moe said. “I can’t see Tollini having us ready to fly in under two weeks.” She took another spoonful of broth. “Anything we should be worried about?” she whispered.
“Nope, we’re in the clear.” A spark touched his spine. “Hold on.”
***
Commander Ernst Ryden didn’t like having members of Adroit’s crew posted to his boat, but conceded that it gave his overworked crew a much needed respite from the continuous pressure and murderous duty hours. The Athenians kept mainly to themselves and had proved to be good technicians. With the boat still greatly undermanned, Ryden held down the helm station.
During the battle with Odenwald, Ryden had the briefest of glimpses at the Vogel’s boat. From intell reports on the worlds south of the frontier he recognized it as a Athenian monitor. What business a Athenian boat had doing north of the frontier was anyone’s guess. The Leaguers were fanatical about avoiding an area of space they considered to be plague ridden.
Captain Vogel had assigned E 692 to picket duty. With his boat being repaired Vogel didn’t want to be caught napping. He made a fair point but in the last two weeks no sign of shipping had been detected approaching the far-flung world. The crew was well rested and the supplies topped up so things were finally going their way.
