Deagth ship quest

by William Zellmann

  “Yes. That’s what the Commodore said.”

  She merely looked at him for a moment. Then, “You don’t like me or trust me at all, do you, Captain?”

  He shook his head. “I neither like nor dislike you, Mistress.” He shrugged. “In any case, my personal likes or dislikes are irrelevant. I’m simply transporting you in accordance with the Commodore’s orders. As for trusting you, No, mistress. Not a bit.”

  She sighed. “I think we’ve proved our good intentions. We could have betrayed the Commodore several times on the trip out.”

  It was his turn to sigh. “I’ve read the logs. At first, you were under pressure to survive. You’d have promised anything. Oh, I don’t think you’re Alliance agents. But I must consider the possibility that you helped the Commodore only until you could learn where the Rekesh was located. Now that you know where she is, and that she is salvageable, it would be easy for you to contact the Alliance ambassador on Remor and pass your information along. I think the Commodore’s actions with regard to you were… unwise.”

  Suddenly she smiled. “You mean you wouldn’t have picked us up?”

  He shook his head. “No, Mistress, I wouldn’t. If I’d been on a mission as important as that, I’d have taken no chances. The Commodore admits in his logs that he knew what he should have done. He made his decision despite that realization. I’m not sure he’d have made the same decision if you’d been a hairy, two — meter male.”

  The smile widened. “So you think I worked my feminine wiles on the Commodore and seduced him from the Path of True Duty.” Var could hear the capitals in the final phrase.

  He relaxed slightly and produced a faint grin. “Something like that.” He frowned. “No matter how dramatically you put it, the Commodore risked the entire mission and the safety of more than 350 Fleet people out of sentiment. Or lust. Either way, I feel that risk was unjustified and I am uncomfortable giving you another opportunity to betray us.”

  “So, what are you going to do?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing, at the moment. However, when we reach Remor I will insist that you and your friend remain aboard until we have talked with the Empire Embassy. If we are boarded or inspected, well, I’ll be armed. As will some of the crew. I hope to simply turn you over to the embassy staff, and let them deal with you and the Alliance.”

  “You think the Commodore is that poor a judge of people?”

  He shrugged again. “Irrelevant. The Commodore had no right to risk the mission for that judgment. I will simply behave as though you are enemy agents. If you are, I hope to prevent or delay you reporting what you’ve learned. If you are not, you will simply be somewhat inconvenienced. I regret that, but I think it is necessary.”

  Her smile had faded as he talked. “I see. Very well. I have no way of convincing you of our good faith, so Lar and I will go along with your plans.”

  She stood, frowning, her anger obvious. “But I want to tell you, Captain, that I consider you a pompous, officious ass. You’ll never be half the leader Kas Preslin is, or half the man! You represent the worst of the military — cold, ruthless, and driven. But Kas asked me to help you. So I’ll tell you what I know, and I’ll try to help you get safely clear of Remor. And I’ll enjoy myself by watching you try to decide how much of what I tell you is true, and how much Alliance lies!” She whirled and stamped out.

  Var simply sat staring at the cabin door for several minutes after she left.

  The problem was, she was right. He had no way of judging how much, if any, of her information was true. For all he knew, Remor was as paranoid as the Glory, and they’d all be arrested and shot almost immediately.

  But he had to act as though her information was good. Certainly there were no better alternatives to consider. The only other system within reach with an Empire diplomatic presence was To-Han, with a small consulate. They couldn’t return there. Even if the Alliance hadn’t learned of Starhopper ’s real mission, Var could hardly show up with Preslin’s ship without blowing their cover completely.

  He shrugged and tried to dismiss his fears. Even if she were an Alliance agent, Lady Jane would be unlikely to guide them into danger. No, her priority would be to make contact with Alliance authorities. After all, stopping Starhopper or the mission would be their problem, not hers.

  So, agent or not, she was probably telling the truth about Remor.

  The only recal stop they had to make was in an uninhabited system, and went smoothly.

  Just before they emerged into the Remor system, Var gathered the crew, and reminded them of the necessity to resume their non-military personas. He issued Rom Reffel a concealable needler, and took one himself. Lady Jane stiffened and reddened at this reminder.

  His preparations proved unnecessary. They were not challenged, and when they got close enough to the planet to hail Remor Control, they got a surprise.

  “Remor control to Empire Diplomatic vessel Starhopper,” the youngish man in the viewscreen began. “We’ve been expecting you. The Empire ambassador has asked us to relay the following orders: you are not to approach the orbital station. Instead, you are to match orbits 500 kilometers behind the station, and stand by for orders from the embassy.” He paused. “The embassy is being notified of your arrival as we speak. Maneuvering vectors to your orbit are…” He ran off a string of numbers.

  “ Starhopper to Remor Control,” Var replied. “We understand and will comply. Do we have clearance for maneuvering?”

  “Wait one, Starhopper.” The man paused again and looked off-screen, evidently at someone talking to him. He turned back. “I’ve just been told that the Embassy has been informed of your arrival. You are cleared to assume orbit.” The screen blanked.

  Var stared at the darkened screen. After a moment he turned to Lady Jane. “I assume this is not a normal procedure,” he said. Her eyes were wide. “It sure isn’t!” she replied. “I’ve never heard of any ship not docking at the orbital station. Your ambassador must’ve been pulling some big strings.”

  He slowly stood. “Commander Reffel,” he said, “Please assume the indicated orbit. I wish they’d given us an idea how long we’ll have to wait.”

  “Probably not long, sir,” Rom replied. “If they’ve been waiting for us and making these kinds of preparations, something’s up. Remember, we weren’t even supposed to come here. This was a secondary contact in case we couldn’t use To-Han.”

  Var looked thoughtful. “You’re right, Commander. Something is up. Something tells me our mission just became even more complicated.”

  It was some five hours later that Edro reported a small ship departing the orbital station and headed for their position. “ID says it’s a diplomatic yacht, Captain,” he added.

  The yacht refused communication and merely matched Starhopper ’s orbit, some ten meters off her port bow. Var, who’d been waiting by the passenger hatch with Rom, was annoyed when Edro called him back to the bridge. “She’s not linking up, sir,” Edro reported. “She’s just hanging there.”

  Var emerged on the bridge, cursing, just as Edro reported the yacht had established a com laser link. That wasn’t a good sign. It meant whoever was on the yacht was insisting on totally secure communications. Why the devil didn’t whoever it was just come aboard?

  Fuming, he plopped down in front of the viewscreen. He straightened as he realized the elderly man in the screen wore the dress uniform of a Fleet Captain.

  “I’m Captain Tan Ro-Ligon,” the man began. “Military Attache to the Empire Embassy on Remor. Please identify yourself.”

  “Commander Var Ler-Traken, sir,” Var responded crisply. “Commanding Starhopper.”

  Ro-Ligon scowled. “I rather expected Commodore Preslin to be in command,” he began. “I assume the fact that he sent you means that your mission was successful and you’ve found Vir Rekesh.”

  “Yes, sir,” Var replied. “The medical team has come up with a cure for the plague, and the Commodore’s reactivation team is preparing her for her retur
n to the Empire. He expects her to be at least marginally operational by the time we return. I was directed to notify the embassy, so the diplomatic staff could begin getting us clearances.”

  The man on the screen reddened and fidgeted. He seemed embarrassed! “Err, yes. Well, Commander, there have been developments, and your mission is no longer so simple.” The man stared into the screen with the manner of a man bracing himself to deliver bad news. “That’s why this infernal nonsense is necessary.” He waved a hand to vaguely indicate the entire situation. “Stand by to receive classified directives,” Ro-Ligon ordered. Then his image disappeared, replaced by blankness, and a prolonged screech told Var they were receiving compressed data. A glance at Edro confirmed that he was recording it.

  The screech went on and on, lasting more than ten seconds; evidently they were being fed a lot of data. Finally, the screech cut off, and Captain Ro-Ligon’s image reappeared.

  The old Captain looked like a judge delivering a death sentence. “You’ll get the details from the directives you’ve just received,” the man began, “But I’ll give you your immediate orders.

  “No one is to embark or disembark from your vessel, Captain,” he began. “Nor are you to ground on any inhabited planet. No one on your ship or Vir Rekesh is to have physical contact of any kind with anyone not presently aboard those ships.”

  “Uh, sir,” Var interrupted, “I have two civilians aboard. Alliance citizens. The Commodore directed me to disembark them here. I was planning to turn them over to you.”

  Ro-Ligon frowned. “Civilians? Alliance citizens?” He sighed in exasperation. “Is nothing ever simple with Kas Preslin? Who are they? Bring them to the bridge.”

  “They’re here, sir.” Var stepped aside, and Lady Jane and Lar Tennig stepped in front of the pickup.

  The old Captain frowned. “Who are you, young mistress?”

  Lady Jane put on her brightest smile. “I’m Captain Jane Grey of the trader Lady Jane,” She replied. “This is my friend and crewman Lar Tennig.”

  The man’s frown deepened. “Traders, eh? Alliance citizens, y’say?”

  “Yes and Yes. Commodore Preslin rescued us from an attack by a Glory corvette. We’ve been assisting him as much as possible, but now you’ve got your damned ship back and we’re ready to get back to business.”

  Ro-Ligon shook his head. “Amazing. Leave it to Preslin to find a good-looking woman, even in the middle of a secret mission!” He sighed in resignation. “I’m sorry, young mistress. It will not be possible to repatriate you or your companion, at least not in the near future.

  “Unfortunately, the orders you heard me give Captain Ler-Traken are direct from Fleet Headquarters on Prime. I have no authority to deviate from them.”

  Lady Jane frowned. “Sir, I protest. And I demand to be permitted to contact Alliance diplomatic personnel immediately!”

  Ro-Ligon shook his head in denial. “That will not be possible, I’m afraid. We will notify the Alliance embassy immediately of your whereabouts and present status.” His lined face hardened with determination. “But no one will be permitted to leave that ship for any reason. Again, I’m sorry.” He straightened. “Captain Ler-Traken?”

  “Here, sir.” Var nudged the civilians aside and resumed his seat in front of the pickup.

  “I’m sorry, Captain,” Ro-Ligon resumed. “You are to treat your Alliance guests with all possible respect and consideration. But under no circumstances are they to be permitted to contact Alliance authorities.

  “Now,” he continued. “I repeat: there is to be no physical contact of any sort between the people aboard your two ships and anyone not presently aboard one of those ships.

  “You are to boost out immediately at max possible delta-vee, and return to Commodore Preslin. You will deliver to him the directives that have just been provided to you. Those directives contain all the information he will need to complete his mission.”

  “Sir,” Var said urgently, “Will we rendezvous with reinforcements from the Empire?”

  Ro-Ligon frowned. “Reinforcements? Don’t be ridiculous. Even an outie like Preslin should be able to defend himself with a fully armed battle cruiser!”

  Var flushed slightly. “Ordinarily that would be true, sir. But he has only 300 Fleet personnel aboard, less than a tenth of Rekesh ’s complement. That’s barely enough to fly her. It’s certainly not enough to fight her effectively.”

  To-Ligon waved a hand in dismissal. “There’s no one to fight! Certainly none of these provincials would be up to attacking a Fleet battle cruiser.” Var shook his head. “I disagree, sir. The Glory would certainly try, if they knew where she was. And I suspect Libertad might take the risk, too. But the point is we have an undermanned ship whose course is, or will shortly be, known to anyone interested enough to bribe a clerk in any of a dozen of the independents. The danger is real, sir.”

  To-Ligon looked unimpressed. “Very well, Captain. I’ll relay your concerns. But no one will be going aboard Rekesh or Starhopper.” An annoyed expression crossed his face. “Frankly, I think you’re overreacting. Those outies on Libertad and the Glory don’t want to pick a fight with the Empire, after all.”

  Var suppressed a frown of disagreement. “Yes, sir. Uh, there is one other thing, Captain. I’d hoped to reprovision here…” His voice trailed off as he saw Ro-Ligon give a curt shake of his head.

  “Quite impossible, Captain. I’m afraid you’ll just have to make your ships’ stores last awhile.” He hesitated, and then continued in a less formal tone, “I’ll make sure that the powers that be haven’t forgotten that you might need supplies. Perhaps a rendezvous with a stores ship can be arranged.” He shrugged. “I’ll try, anyway, Captain. I’m well aware that all of you are being treated quite shabbily for Fleet officers and crew.” He frowned. “I’m sorry, Captain. There’s nothing more I’m permitted to tell you. I’m told that all the details are in those messages you’ve been given. Good luck.” His image faded as he clicked off. Var frowned. What the Sheol was going on? Something was up, no doubt about it. His face cleared as he got to his feet. “All right, you heard the man. Mr. Reffel, break orbit. Mistress Fauss, please plot us a course to the jump point, max boost. Mr. Jans, get us clearances from Remor Control. Now, people. I want to boost out in fifteen minutes.”

  As the crew scrambled to obey, Var turned to the two civilians. “I doubt you’ll believe this, Mistress, but I’m truly sorry.”

  Lady Jane smiled. “Oh, I believe it. You’re still saddled with two Alley spies. And me without a single cloak or dagger.”

  Var’s handsome face relaxed into a smile. “I’m sure you’ll make do. No, I meant I’m sorry that we weren’t able to disembark you here. I’ve a feeling that you’re going to wish we had.”

  Her smile faded. “Something’s going on, isn’t it? Something big.”

  He shrugged. “You know as much as I do. But yes, I’d say something’s badly wrong.”

  He was right. They’d received a lot of comm traffic; and surprisingly, none of it was personal mail for the crews of either Starhopper or Rekesh.

  Nearly all of it was classified, and much of it appeared to have come directly from Fleet HQ. Most amazing of all was one that carried the imprint of the Imperial Senate.

  Unfortunately, only one directive was addressed to CO, Starhopper, and that consisted only of written orders confirming those he’d been given by Captain Ro-Ligon. Var would have to contain his curiosity until the Commodore briefed him. If he did.

  PART III

  THE RETURN

  Chapter 14

  Kas stared incredulously at the viewer in front of him.

  Curiosity had led him to open the message from the Imperial Senate first. After all, he’d never before heard of the Senate sending messages directly to Fleet personnel. On the rare occasions such contact was made, it was made through Fleet HQ and Fleet Admiral Pankin. It was unprecedented.

  He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He was summoned to appear be
fore a session of the Imperial Senate to “explain matters directly relating to the safety and welfare of the Empire.” The date he was commanded to appear was just over a month ago. He wondered if there was a warrant out for his arrest for Contempt of the Senate.

  He shook his head in disbelief, and turned his attention to the next most impressive; the one imprinted with the personal seal of the Commander In chief, Imperial Fleet. He set the viewer display to ‘screen’.

  Fleet Admiral Pankin appeared, sitting behind a bare desk.

  The Fleet Admiral smiled. Kas almost answered the smile with one of his own before remembering he was seeing a recording.

  “Hello, Commodore,” Pankin began. “By now, you’ve been looking at this mass of electronic junk and wondering what the Sheol’s happened.

  “Well, your secret mission’s no longer secret. The story of the Vir Rekesh hit the newsies about three months after you left.”

  His smile turned bitter. “Of course, they played up the sensational aspects, with the emphasis on the plague. For months now, the Rekesh has been the “Ghost ship” “Imperial death ship,” and even something called the “Flying Dutchman.” It took the newsies about two minutes to decide that she was a threat to the entire Empire.”

  The Admiral shrugged. “Then the news somehow leaked that we’d sent a mission to recover her. The newsies went mad.” He smiled grimly. “Of course, the Senate went mad about five minutes later, as soon as the reports hit the terminals. I’ve been before six Senate committees and before the full Senate twice. It seems they think we’re fools or villains. Or both. The Emperor has already had to personally intercede when a pack of senators demanded my head.

  “I guess some staffer’s been counting heads or something, because about two months ago your name came up in connection with the Rekesh. Ever since, you have been a prominent feature of the newsies all over the Empire, and in most of the independents.