Up The Middle (Spineward Sectors: Middleton's Pride Book 2)

by Caleb Wachter

  Raubach shook his head and sighed as though this was all some great inconvenience to him, but he did as he was instructed and looked around the airlock pointedly. Middleton closed the inner doors and moved to the small, transparent window built into the top of the inner door’s four segments.

  “I’m sure this particular method of inquest has worked wonders in the past, Captain Middleton,” Raubach said, his voice coming through the speakers built into the bulkhead beside the doors. “But you’ll find that Imperial nobility doesn’t tend to crumple under pressure.”

  Middleton looked to Fei Long and nodded silently, prompting the young man to execute a series of commands on his data pad. A few seconds later, he showed the screen to Captain Middleton and it showed an image of the mess hall, which currently held the rest of the Imperial prisoners.

  Middleton turned to the Lancers, and Fei Long, and said, “Go to the mess hall and see to it that the prisoners are secure.”

  “Captain?” Gnuko asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.

  “That’s an order, Sergeant,” Middleton said, his voice cracking like a whip.

  Gnuko hesitated before nodding, “You heard the captain. Move out.”

  The Lancers slowly turned, each giving Middleton a concerned look as they did so, and when they and Mr. Fei had rounded the corner he turned back to face Captain Raubach.

  “Your people have caused a lot of trouble out here, Captain,” he said levelly. “The coordinated mutinies of dozens of starships, the blatant attacks on civilian targets including at least one gas mining facility and one settler ship,” he ticked off the points and shook his head in genuine shame. “You’re a disgrace to that uniform, Captain Raubach.”

  “Nothing I say in here is admissible in a court of law, Middleton,” Raubach said, wagging his finger reproachfully. “This is the very definition of ‘under duress,’ and no confession, no matter how detailed, will hold up if it’s given in here.”

  “Then what have you got to lose?” Middleton asked with a shrug. “It must be tough, walking around with the knowledge of what you’ve done, what you’ve convinced others to do, and what you’ve allowed to be done.”

  Raubach snorted harshly. “You honestly think any of that will matter when all is said and done?” he asked incredulously. “I never actually thought you were stupid, Middleton, but it’s becoming apparent to me that you genuinely are.” He stepped toward the window and held Middleton’s gaze for several seconds as the two engaged in a silent test of wills. “Change is coming, Lieutenant Commander Middleton,” he said, nearly scoffing as he said the rank, “and change requires difficult decisions that are way above your pay grade.”

  “Like placing a ship full of colonists in peril just so you could seize a single corvette?” Middleton asked.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rabuach spat, turning his back and walking away from the window before turning around again. “The Rim Fleet is the only group operating out here that isn’t beholden to some petty inter-system politics. If we left the provincials to their own devices they’d destroy themselves,” he snapped. “But not all of them know what’s best for themselves, and we can’t be responsible for them when they won’t take responsibility for themselves.”

  “So…let me see if I’ve got this straight,” Middleton began, folding his arms across his chest, “you issue ultimatums to these systems, demanding resources, ships, and whatever else it is you think you’re entitled to, and when they refuse to pay up…what happens then?”

  “Typical provincial thinking,” Raubach said smugly. “You can’t even see past the nose on your own face. If they won’t help themselves then why should we?”

  “The Spine was doing just fine before the Empire came along,” Middleton growled.

  “Sure,” Raubach threw his hands in the air, “if by ‘fine’ you mean a median interval of less than twenty years between full-scale war for the average system under the old Confederacy, then yes—things were great.” He shook his head piteously and leveled a finger in Middleton’s direction, “My family is here to help the Spineward Sectors, Middleton.”

  “I fail to see how manufacturing bioweapons—and firing them at the earliest possible convenience on a ship full of duly-appointed protectors of the peace—can possibly help the Spineward Sectors,” Middleton retorted, fighting to keep calm as thoughts of his dead crew flashed through his mind.

  “You’re still bent out of shape over that?” Raubach cried incredulously. “Move on, Middleton; be glad that so many of you survived at all and move the Hades on.”

  “I want to hear you say it, Raubach,” Middleton said after drawing several deep breaths.

  “Say what?” James Raubach IV snapped.

  “Say you gave the order,” Middleton said coldly. “I think I might actually be able to forgive you if you did.”

  Raubach threw his hands in the air in mock exasperation. “You can’t use any of this,” he declared, as though Middleton was stupid or incapable of simple reasoning. “What good will it do you to hear me say something like that?”

  “Say it,” Middleton said, his voice low and surprisingly calm.

  Captain Raubach shook his head and narrowed his eyes, “Are we negotiating my release?”

  Middleton nodded silently, and the other man searched his features for several seconds before his visage relaxed fractionally.

  “All right…I’ll say it,” Raubach said, “Meisha was acting on my orders to oversee Project Purity which, among other things, oversaw various biotech operations including the development of certain hazardous compounds. She was under strict guidelines to deal with any threat to said project’s integrity with extreme prejudice.”

  “And the settler ship?” Middleton pressed.

  “Was attacked by some pirates from out on the Rim,” Raubach said dismissively. “We placed sleeper agents aboard their ship, as well as aboard the SDF corvette. When the pirates attacked the settlers, my people seized the opportunity to take the pirate ship and lay a trap for Manning’s people.”

  “Why?” Middleton asked, and Raubach shook his head.

  “There are protocols for this sort of thing, Middleton,” Raubach said. “I need certain assurances before we go any further.”

  “And your crew?” Middleton asked.

  “They’re prisoners of war,” Raubach shrugged, “at least for the time being. I’m sure you’ll agree that the principals have to be seen to first.”

  Middleton nodded slowly for several seconds before saying, “I guess that leaves just one question.”

  “Don’t test my patience, Middleton,” Raubach said as he lowered his brow thunderously.

  Middleton shook his head, “I wouldn’t dream of it, I assure you.” He stepped closer to the glass and looked up into the corner of the airlock compartment, prompting a tiny, blue, light to blink twice before he returned his attention to his prisoner. “But the last time we spoke, I told you that it was in your best interests if you believed what I said.”

  Captain Raubach sneered, but quickly pulled the expression back. “And here we were getting along so well.”

  Middleton nodded, “There’s no reason for that to change. But I need you to answer this final question, Captain Raubach,” he said as he drew so close to the window that his nose nearly touched it. “Where is your family’s base of operations out on the Rim?”

  Raubach shook his head in abject disgust. “Middleton, I don’t know what you’re playing at but we both know there’s no way you can make me tell you that.” Raubach looked up pointedly at the tiny, cleverly-concealed camera which Middleton had checked a moment earlier and said, “None of this will stand up, Captain. And even if it did, I’m Imperial nobility; there isn’t a court in the Spineward Sectors that wouldn’t hand me over to the nearest Imperial authority faster than you can unzip your fly.”

  “I’ll take that as a refusal to answer the question, then?” Middleton asked casually.

  Raubach moved closer to the
window until his nose actually touched it and he said, “That’s right, I’m through talking to you. Face it, Middleton: I’ve got complete immunity.”

  Middleton flinched as his hand had just begun to reach for the airlock’s control console and he did a double take. He replayed the man’s last words over in his mind several times, and as he did so he was reminded of a similar statement which had been made to him not long after he had first taken command.

  He actually found himself chuckling, and when he realized he had begun to laugh he decided to indulge himself and the chuckles quickly turned to a full-throated belly laugh. After a few seconds he felt his eyes begin to water and he decided it was time to rein in his emotions.

  “I cannot believe I am about to say this,” Middleton said after regaining his composure well enough that he could speak without his own laughter interrupting him, “but…that’s what she said.”

  When he said those words, it was as if every last shred of emotion vanished from his mind and he saw Raubach’s eyes narrow. “Who?” Raubach asked.

  Middleton raised his hand to the control panel and entered his override code. When the sequence was primed, he met the other man’s eyes and held them for several seconds before saying, “Your wife.”

  His finger rammed down on the emergency purge icon, and the last thing he saw of Captain James Raubach was a look of incredulous outrage as his body shot away from the ship’s hull, propelled by the escaping gases which had previously sustained his life.

  Middleton turned unceremoniously and began his trek toward the mess hall but was alarmed to see Sergeant Gnuko standing just a few meters away. He met the Sergeant’s eyes for several seconds before pushing silently past him and heading down the corridor toward the mess hall.

  Sergeant Gnuko took up a flanking position, which he maintained when Middleton entered the mess hall and saw the view screen was still set to the video feed Mr. Fei had set up an hour earlier. The image was of an empty airlock, and one by one the heads of the Imperial crewmembers turned to face Captain Middleton with a twinge of fear in their eyes.

  “All right,” Middleton said as casually as he could manage, “who’s next?”

  Chapter L: A Culture of Pride

  “This is everything his crew gave us?” Middleton asked, waving the data slate as Sergeant Gnuko nodded.

  “They were more than willing to talk after seeing how you dealt with their uncooperative captain,” Gnuko said lightly, but Middleton knew the other man had taken no pleasure in receiving their testimonies—or in standing by while Middleton had executed Raubach in what many would have called ‘cold blood.’

  Thankfully, Sergeant Gnuko had not needed to so much as look sternly at the Dämmerung’s remaining crewmembers before they had volunteered whatever information they possessed.

  The majority of it had been worthless, but there had been an interesting snippet gleaned from a former bridge officer—a Tactical Officer, as it happened—who had reported that the Raubach base was almost certainly located in orbit of a brown dwarf out on the Rim, well past the settled regions of the Spineward Sectors.

  The region was as close to being termed ‘unexplored wilderness’ as anywhere else in the galaxy, which made it the perfect hiding spot. The only reason the officer was confident in the location had to do with localized EM fields matching those of a brown dwarf, and he had detected those fields with local equipment during recalibration of their ship’s targeting sensors.

  The Dämmerung’s Navigator, Captain Raubach, and his XO had apparently been the only crew which had known for certain where the base was located. The rest of the crew had been subjected to complete information lockdown for a week before, and after, the ship had entered the Raubach’s base system.

  “I’ll have Mr. Fei incorporate this information into his projections,” Middleton said before activating his desk’s com-link and raising the young man at his Comm. station. “Mr. Fei, report to my ready room.”

  A moment later, the young man entered the ready room with a data slate in hand. He had apparently prepared for the meeting, having accurately surmised the purpose of Sergeant Gnuko’s visit.

  “Yes, Captain?” the young man asked as he approached the desk.

  Middleton handed him the data slate, “You know what to do.”

  Fei Long nodded as he accepted the slate. It apparently only took him a couple of minutes to digest the information presented, and he began to make inputs to the slate he had brought with him. After inputting those commands, he handed the one containing the information in Gnuko’s report back to Middleton. “This will take a few moments,” the young man said distantly as he focused on the slate, making occasional inputs.

  Middleton had not expected him to complete the cross-check so quickly, and he supposed that if he had not learned to increase his expectations of the young man by then it was unlikely to ever happen.

  Fei Long’s eyes rose in surprise. “Based on the ship’s revised star charts, Mr. Lynch’s activity log of Rim Fleet vessels, a broadly defined set of distances based on what we know of the Dämmerung’s jump drives, and placing probabilistic emphasis on the systems which were removed from our old star charts, I have found three potential matches, Captain,” he finished—surprisingly all in one breath—before offering the slate to Middleton. “But I believe the third is the one we seek.”

  Middleton took the slate and examined the entries. The first system was a brown dwarf with a pair of planets in orbit of it, but the system’s location was currently beyond the galactic plane to the galactic north. Any ship traveling in the area would need special shields modifications just to protect their crews from harmful radiation. Since several of the crew reported traveling to and from the Dämmerung via unshielded shuttle—and Dr. Middleton had already checked out their collective health, finding no evidence of recent exposure to dangerous levels of radiation—Middleton concurred with Fei Long’s assessment that this particular target was extremely unlikely.

  The second system, located to the galactic south, was well within the galactic plane and was otherwise a significantly better prospect than the first. However, it was located too close to a pair of trade routes, and there was a science colony nearby. The good news was that, if the third target was the correct location of the Raubach base, a direct course from the Pride’s current position would bring them close enough to this second system that investigating it would only require an additional four jumps.

  But when Middleton examined the third possibility, he was forced to concur with Mr. Fei’s assessment. The brown dwarf listed had a significant planetary mass in unusually close proximity to it, and that planet was tidally locked to the failed star. This meant that a base constructed on its dark side would be protected from much of the brown dwarf’s radiation. There was very little information on the planet itself, aside from the fact that it was composed primarily of carbon and had no atmosphere to speak of.

  But the piece of evidence that put this particular system over the top was the fact that, while it was very nearly outside of the galactic plane, four vessels had vanished in the last sixteen months after logging itineraries which would have taken them within a jump or two of the system. There was no strategic value to the location itself, no known mineralogical resources to speak of in the vicinity, and there were no trade routes nearby. Middleton was therefore able to rule out pirate activity as an even remotely likely cause for the vessels’ disappearances.

  “I agree,” Middleton said, making a note of the system’s name and other relevant information so he could conduct his own analysis in private. “Good work, Mr. Fei,” he said, standing to shake the young man’s hand, “this would not have been possible without you.”

  Fei Long seemed at a loss for words, so he predictably clasped his hands and bowed in his usual manner. “Will the two of you be attending this evening?”

  Middleton quirked an eyebrow as Gnuko nodded. The Lancer Sergeant said, “I wouldn’t miss it. I can’t wait for the second half, per
sonally; it sounds like you’ve put some thought into it.”

  “It was not solely my idea,” Fei Long gushed, “there are twenty three crewmembers in all who have agreed to participate.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” Middleton said, remembering the scheduled activity which he had approved just a few days earlier when Fei Long had asked him to do so.

  Fei Long nodded, bowed, and turned to leave the room.

  “Sergeant,” Middleton said, leaning forward and clasping his hands, “I wish you had followed my orders and returned to the mess hall.”

  Sergeant Gnuko nodded slowly, “I know that, Captain, and I knew it then.”

  “This isn’t likely to end well, Russell,” Middleton sighed. “If we actually succeed in taking these people down, and if I’m extremely lucky, I’ll get court martialed and be allowed to live out my days on a penal colony somewhere. The rest of the crew will hopefully be allowed to serve on some backwater like Easy Haven for the duration of your enlistments. If not…” he trailed off, considering the varied ways the Montagnes had been rumored to dispose of their enemies—particularly subordinates who made a habit of going off-script. “I didn’t want to drag anyone else into this with me. The Admiral won’t have any choice but to make an example out of me after we’re through out here, and he’s probably not going to be satisfied with just one burnt offering.”

  “I know that, Tim,” Gnuko replied evenly, “and I knew it then.” The Lancer Sergeant leaned forward and met Middleton’s gaze with a hard one of his own, “What we’re doing out here needs to be done. If the universe decides we have to burn for doing it, so be it, but if we don’t hit these people with everything we’ve got then we might as well turn around, tuck our tails, run home to mama and pray to the Saint that someone else will deal with it. But we both know that isn’t going to happen, don’t we?”

  “Which part?” Middleton asked.

  “Any of it,” the other man retorted harshly.