by A. C. Ellas
“Yes, I did.”
“And the Guild?”
“They accepted it.” Cai added, out of honesty in case Pol had similar aspirations, “I had to face the Guildmaster over it. He threatened to take my wings.”
“Ouch. You didn’t back down?”
“No, I didn’t.” Cai paused then admitted, “I decided being with him was more important. I meant the vows I swore at our wedding. I suspect my willingness to hold to my principles is what won the Guildmaster over.”
“You could be right,” Pol agreed. “Too bad I don’t swing your way. Captain Ballard is a firm hand at the helm, but he just doesn’t get my juices flowing like, say, Ban’s Captain Carney. She’s gorgeous. Ban’s so lucky, and he doesn’t even notice how hot she is!”
“Ban has never struck me as the type to notice anything without the gravity signature of at least a small moon.” That was the polite way of saying the other Astrogator had no interest in anything other than astronomical bodies and interstellar navigation, a common failing of the breed. If not for Nick, Cai suspected he’d be much the same, if not worse.
“Too right, brother,” Pol muttered. They exchanged some more pleasantries then broke off the conversation in order to chat up some of their other fellows. It wasn’t often that they had the opportunity to catch up with so many of their fellow Astrogators all at once.
* * * *
Being the head of Child Protective for all of Noram didn’t leave Gilly with a lot of spare time. Her visit with Nick and Cai on their ship had been her first real vacation in years, and she’d really enjoyed the visit, but at the same time, the work had piled up in her absence. It took her two solid weeks to catch up enough that she no longer felt in imminent danger of drowning in paperwork, and finally, she had time to turn her attention to the puzzle of Cai.
She had seen him before. She was certain of it, but she couldn’t recall the details. Cai wasn’t any older than Nick, however, not if he’d been in the Guild Halls while Nick was at the Academy. She decided to use logic to narrow down her search. The training for an Astrogator took between three and four years and Cai had been in service for about ten years objective time, so she was looking for reports no older than fifteen years ago, no sooner than twelve years ago. If she didn’t hit pay dirt in that range, she’d work backward toward Cai’s probable birth year, the one thing she was certain of was that there’d be no data on Cai past the date of the Guild’s claim of him.
She entered her parameters, eliminated half of the results because the person she was looking for was undeniably male then sighed. Only two million odd reports remained for her to browse through. She glanced at the still photo now decorating her desk—a photo of Nick and Cai in their formal uniforms and looking too good for words; then, it dawned on her. She quickly scanned the photo into her system, used the cropping tool to narrow it down to Cai’s face, and told the computer to compare it to all pictures in the waiting files and display the closest matches.
She turned to other work while waiting for the results, her computer systems were far from the fastest available. Nevertheless, she had the results in under an hour. She started with the top match and found herself looking at a photo of what could only be the same person but taken years earlier. Jason Hunter, she read. Missing. She flagged the entire file and routed it to her personal workstation. After a quick read-through, she realized two things. Cai had to be this missing boy and there was no Guild letter of claim in the file.
Her first instinct was to reach out to the Hunter family and tell them she’d found their missing child, but sense prevailed. The Guild had no sense of humor—if they interpreted her actions as even potentially threatening the safety of one of their Gators, well... she rather thought she was too old to be an adjunct, but she had no doubt that the Guild could eliminate any problems like her with very little trouble.
The Hunter family was fabulously wealthy, controlling the largest fleet of privately owned space cruisers in existence. If they, with all their vast resources, hadn’t been able to locate their missing child—which had caused a terrific scandal, according to the file—it meant the Guild might not want it known that Jason had been claimed. She could think of several reasons for that, but it was all conjecture.
Taking a deep breath, she placed a call to the Guild. Although she could think of reasons why the Guild hadn’t placed the claim on Jason Hunter, not doing so meant that their hold over the man was illegal. Jason had lived under her jurisdiction when the missing person’s report had been filed—that’s why he’d looked familiar, she’d seen the initial report and all the follow-up reports years ago as it had happened. So she had a duty now to follow up on this, even though she suspected she’d be a lot safer if she just dropped it and pretended she’d never thought Cai had looked at all familiar. Of course, her search was now a matter of record, too. Nothing done on a computer could be erased, and attempting to do so raised plenty of red flags in multiple law enforcement arms. Criminals either avoided using the networks or disguised their data and relied on the billions upon billions of other records to hide them from the casual, unfocused data sweeps.
Her contact in the Guild was a pleasant woman that she’d known and worked with for years. “Yriad, I’ve got a hot mess I need advice on,” she said, skipping the pleasantries.
“Okay, lay it out for me.” Yriad was a study in calmness, as usual.
Gilly laid out the case quickly, sending the file, including her personal picture of Nick and Cai. “There’s no claim letter, Yriad. This family was left hanging.”
“Oh, my,” Yriad said softly. She studied Gilly’s photo. “Nicky’s looking good,” she offered. She had been one of the two Guild telepaths dispatched to Nick’s home that horrible night many, many years ago. Because of her continuing interest in the Steele children, Yriad and Gilly had become fairly close, until the Guild just made her the official contact for Child Protective, officially recognizing what was already occurring. They retained a cordial relationship, something Gilly was banking heavily on at the moment.
“Yes, he and Cai are very much in love,” Gilly said, smiling. “Cai says the Guild’s okay with it.”
Yriad raised both eyebrows. “That’s more than a little unusual, but then, so is this case. I’m going to have to take this further up the chain, Gilly. I, personally, have no answers to this. I’ll be in touch once I find something out, until then, keep it private.”
“Of course.” Gilly sighed as the connection closed then shut down her console. She was too worked up now to accomplish anything else productive for the day. She decided to head home and curl up with a book and a pot of tea.
Chapter Six: Briefing
The profusion of braid in the room was mildly amusing to Nick. There were a dozen ships’ captains there, including himself. They were all waiting for Admiral Nbuntu. Four years subjective and ten years objective time as Captain of the Laughing Owl placed him two spaces up from the bottom of the table—the third most junior captain. He greeted those to either side of him. “Joni, Pete, so good to meet you both in person.”
“Nick,” Joni replied. She inclined her head. “You’re quite the celebrity, standing against the Guild and all. How’s Cai?”
“Cai is doing well, but he still complains about his knee—he took a slug pirate hunting.”
“We caught one, too,” commented Pete. “You got the flagship, though. Well done, taking them down.”
“There was more than one?” Nick encouraged Pete to tell his tale of cat and mouse with the pirate’s second ship. More than one captain listened in, offering comments and critiques. Nick admitted to the trouble they had with Captain Dredd and the psion Mouse, warning the others not to take anything at face value.
Before any further space stories could be told, Admiral Nbuntu entered the room without announcement and strode directly to the front. Silence reigned as the captains turned their attention to their commanding officer. “Please, be seated,” the admir
al said mildly as he turned to face them. Once everyone was in a chair, the admiral touched a button.
The space above the table immediately filled with a holographic, three-dimensional space map. Nick studied the system, a binary of main sequence stars with a solid dozen planets. He could see activity around the fourth planet and some of the moons of the gas giants, namely the seventh and eighth planets. There was an asteroid belt between the fifth planet, which looked to be a barren rock, and the sixth planet, a smallish gas planet tidal locked to the much larger seventh planet.
Nick triggered his implant and sent a silent message to Cai. In moments, he could feel his spouse’s presence, listening in as the admiral began to speak.
“Several of our colonies have been raided by the Rels. Space Corps Command has tasked us with taking the fight to the enemy. We will be attacking what the analysts believe is the Rel home system. This will not be a full-fleet exercise; instead, we have devised something a little more... diabolical. All of your ships have recently been refit with the latest in stealth technology. These devices, which have been extensively tested by crews under my command, will render your jump signatures unrecognizable. In fact, they will be close to nonexistent, and if the Rels can figure it out, I’ll fucking resign, that’s how confident I am in this new technology.”
After that, they went over the details of the plan. Nbuntu ended with, “This mission is critical to the over-all strategy that the Corps has developed to combat these menaces. To that end, I will be accompanying you on this mission. You may have noticed that only Owl-class frigates are assigned to this mission. That’s because you’re the only ships with the stealth technology required. Therefore, for this mission, I shall be transferring my flag to one of you.”
Nick almost shrugged. The admiral’s flag wasn’t something he’d need to be concerned with. Jenny McCormick of the Eagle Owl was senior, so the admiral would be her problem.
“Captain Steele,” Nbuntu said.
Nick managed not to blink in surprise. “Yes, Admiral?”
“Cai is the strongest Gator in the Fourth Fleet. Therefore, I will use Laughing Owl as my flag for this mission.”
“Admiral, my cabin is yours,” Nick said formally. It was traditional, but it wasn’t the sacrifice for him that it might be for others. Cai, want a roommate?
You’re my husband. What I have is yours. Besides, you should have moved in with me a long time ago.
“Thank you,” Nbuntu said with a wry smile that led Nick to believe he knew what a non-issue giving up the captain’s cabin would be for Nick. That might have had as much to do with the admiral’s decision as Cai’s pure power had.
That may well be, Cai agreed.
The briefing done, the admiral left the room.
Pete stood up. “We’re all heading over to the club. You coming?”
Go, socialize, Cai said immediately. You know half your job is politics. If you don’t rub elbows, people will think less of you. I’ll have your things moved by the time you get back.
Are you Gators enjoying your own form of R&R? Nick responded.
Oh, yes. We’re doing our best to saturate the comm bands tonight. Cai sent the impression of a smile, followed by a mental caress. Go, have fun. Tell many stories, some of which may even be true.
“I’d be happy to,” Nick replied to Pete. They sauntered out of the conference room together, already chatting about weird things they’d seen.
By some miracle, Nick wasn’t hung over the next morning when Admiral Nbuntu came aboard. Cai had docked Laughing Owl with the station before going to bed the night before, specifically to await the admiral, though Nick had appreciated not having to take a shuttle back to his command. The admiral moved straight into his cabin with very little formality. Nick had already set a briefing for his officers at oh-eight-hundred, the ship’s clock having been reset at Hevetich Station as was usual and customary. He sent a polite message to the admiral, informing him of the briefing if he wished to attend. Cai was already in Chamber, like he was every single morning, but he’d promised to attend the briefing, so Nick didn’t pester him.
The admiral pinged him on the shipnet. Nick immediately acknowledged the contact. “Yes, sir?”
“Tell your Astrogator to get us moving. You can hold the briefing while we’re heading out-system. Tell Cai to signal the others, I want the whole fleet moving in half an hour.”
Nick acknowledged and repeated the admiral’s orders to Cai verbatim. Cai snorted. “He’s barely aboard and he’s already throwing his weight about, eh? Don’t worry, dear. I’ve already told the others, and I’m prepared for departure now, but we’re down a crewman.”
Nick did a rapid check. “Where’s Sandra Dann?”
“Medical.”
“Oh. The baby?”
“Affirmative.”
“Authorizing medical leave,” Nick said as he routed the orders through to the station. “Can we go without her?”
“Yes, if the mission parameters remain as stated, we shouldn’t need an ecologist.”
Nick snorted in amusement. “With our luck?”
“That’s okay; I have a replacement en route; she’ll be at our airlock in five minutes.”
“Cai? What?” Nick sat straight up. It wasn’t like his Gator to spring things on him, particularly not things as important as crew assignments.
“I knew Sandra would go into labor—I do have just the slightest touch of prescience, you know? So I made arrangements in advance.” Cai sounded very, very smug.
“Okay, Cai, what are you hiding?” Nick wanted to shake his head as he realized the answer was obvious. “It’s Evie, isn’t it?”
“My, my, you’re not only hot, you’re smart, too. Of course, I already knew that; your mind is one of the things I love about you. Evie was delighted by the opportunity. She’ll be here shortly.”
The men and women of the science team were officers by courtesy, not line officers. Whatever Evie didn’t know about shipboard military discipline, she’d pick up from the others. His little sister was smart; Nick had every confidence in her. Fortunately, she was also fast, for she hit the airlock in less than the five minutes Cai had promised. As captain, Nick immediately authorized her presence on the ship, granted her access to the shipnet and routed her to her bunk with orders to prepare for departure. It was done before the inner airlock door even cycled open.
Evie acknowledged via the shipnet and, thanks to her previous tours of the vessel, went quickly to her assigned quarters. As soon as Cai had the outer airlock sealed, Nick heard him request departure from the station.
“Hevetich Control, this is Laughing Owl, ready for undock and departure at this time.” Cai’s voice, the voice of his ship, always brought a smile to Nick’s face.
“Laughing Owl, cleared for undock and departure.”
Cai broke them away from the station neatly and quickly. Accelerating down the lane, he signaled each of the other frigates in turn. One by one, the Owls departed from Hevetich Station, following Laughing Owl’s lead.
Nick watched them via the holographic display until the entire flotilla was moving. Then he stood. “Time for the briefing. Ensign Takani, you have the conn.” Nick couldn’t leave the bridge unattended with the ship underway, it was against regulations. The ensign was at least an officer, barely, and it would be good for his morale to get to stand the watch, even briefly.
“Yes, sir!” The young man saluted. He looked ready to burst with pride.
Nick managed not to laugh. Had he ever been that young and eager?
Evie hadn’t attended the briefing—only the chief science officer, Scott Quinn, was required to attend, he’d then be expected to tell his people what they needed to know. That was standard for all sections except line officers. All line officers were required to attend the briefing so that no matter what happened, they knew what the mission was.
Nick was well aware of how vital that really was, having been forced to
take command as a junior lieutenant after the first Rel ship ever spotted had attacked the ship he was assigned to. Surprise had been on the Rels’ side; they caught the Scarlet Dragon with no protective screens up, no weapons powered up, still in cruising mode, and it was just pure luck that the Gator, Lem, had even been in Chamber. The Rels’ second missile spread had unluckily impacted right over the bridge, as if they knew exactly where to aim, taking out all the senior officers in one go, leaving Nick alone and in command of a clusterfuck of a situation.
When the briefing was over, he’d gone not to the bridge, but to his office, a small space adjacent to the bridge where he could deal with the drudgery of being a captain—reading reports, writing reports, reviewing and evaluating crew, reviewing inventory, repairs, and a hundred other things.
Evie found him there. “Captain, reporting for duty.” She attempted a salute.
“Welcome aboard, Dr. Gillespie. Sit down.” Nick set the reports aside with a hint of gratitude for the interruption. “How did you and Cai manage to sneak this past me?”
“Cai’s quite something, isn’t he?” Evie grinned. “During our little visit in Earth orbit, Cai and I got to talking. I told him the truth—I’ve got all my degrees and I’m getting bored. I envied the two of you for getting to see the stars. I think Brahe gave me a taste for adventure. So Cai suggested I join up; he said the Corps always needs scientists and that he could guarantee me a position as ecologist on Laughing Owl.”
“So that’s why you left early,” Nick mused. Evie had taken off a full three days before Gilly, claiming she had problems at work that couldn’t wait.
“Yes. The Corps sent me here by fast courier scout then rushed my intake, all at Cai’s request, I’m told. Your hubby has some real pull with admiralty.”
