Return to Dakistee

by Thomas DePrima

  Admiral Hubera then stood up and proudly walked towards the door that led to the office section of the building.

  * * *

  It's definitely a freighter," the tactical officer aboard the Portland said as he stared at the DeTect screen, "because it appears to be maxed out with ten kilometers of cargo. But it's not under power. And there appears to be a much smaller ship alongside. It could be a single-hull cargo ship, or something else."

  "Something else?" Captain Gregory said.

  "Perhaps a Space Command ship performing an inspection."

  "No. I'd know if there was another SC ship in this immediate area. Helm, let's go take a look."

  "Aye, Captain," the helmsman said as he keyed in the course information sent to him by the tac officer.

  * * *

  "Captain, a ship is headed directly towards us," the tac officer aboard the Hell Fire said."

  "Freighter?"

  "No, sir. Based on the size, my guess would be Space Command destroyer."

  "Damn. Cancel all operations. Emergency recall. Tell them to get back here or stay and face Space Command on their own.

  Aboard the freighter, the Raider crewmen dropped everything they were doing and ran for the shuttle bays in the maintenance section as fast as their legs would carry them. Once the hatches were sealed, the shuttle pilot hit the remote to open the bay doors without even depressurizing the bay. Objects that hadn't been locked down hit the sides of the shuttles as the depressurization pulled them out along with the atmosphere. When the bay door was wide open he released the magnetic skids and applied all the thruster power he had available. The shuttle blasted out of the bay like a champagne cork from a bottle and into the bay on the Hell Fire like a meteor caught in a gravity well. Before the bay door was even closed, the Hell Fire was moving and building it's temporal envelope.

  * * *

  "The second ship is moving away, Captain," the tac officer aboard the Portland said.

  "Fast?"

  "Yes, sir. She just went FTL."

  "Should I pursue, sir?" the helmsman asked.

  "Negative. I'd love to, but there might be injured aboard the freighter who need emergency assistance. Just keep closing on the cargo vessel."

  "Aye, sir."

  As the Portland neared the freighter a minute later, the sensors were able to provide a reasonably clear image of the ship.

  "What do you make of that, Tac?" Captain Gregory asked.

  "It looks like just the cargo section of a freighter. The front end where it would attach to the freighter is badly mangled. My best guess is that the freighter blew up."

  "Damn pirates. It probably refused to stop so they blew it to hell. Com, notify the shuttle bays that we're going to launch as soon as we're close enough. Without a ship at the front of that hulk, we won’t have to worry about attack."

  "Aye, Captain."

  It took time for the shuttles to launch and enter the maintenance bay at the center of the cargo ship, and then more time to get the bay hatch closed and the area pressurized. Engineers, with a Marine escort, slowly began to move out in both directions. Everyone was in full EVA gear and would remain that way until it was determined it was safe to remove the suits. The link section doors had closed automatically when they had sensed a pressure drop from the end where the freighter had been, and the engineers had to open each as they progressed to determine that the atmosphere conditions on the other side were stable.

  "Captain," Commander Conte said as he reported in, "There's something strange here."

  "What is it, XO?"

  "There are stasis beds lined up in the link tunnel for as far as we can see, sir. These are all extra-long beds, the kind used by Nordakians."

  "Empty or occupied?"

  "All that we've passed so far have been empty with the covers open, but I can see beds ahead where the covers are still closed."

  "When you reach that point, let me know if the beds are occupied.

  A few minutes later, Conte reported in again. "The beds here are occupied, sir. The people inside are all Nordakians."

  "Okay, I'm sending over a couple of medical teams."

  "Yes, sir."

  An hour later, Commander Conte reported in again. "Sir, the docs say the people in the beds appear healthy. Some have been asleep for months and some for only days."

  "Tell the medical teams I want two from each group sent over here and awakened, but keep them all separated so they can't coordinate any fictitious stories."

  "Aye, sir."

  Captain Franklin Gregory entered the interrogation room where one of the awakened sleepers was being held. His stasis bed indicated he had only been asleep for a few days. He had already been identified from the database information supplied to the Portland by the Nordakian authorities when the Portland was tasked with babysitting the freighter. According to the files, he spoke Amer, but so far he had claimed ignorance of the language and so he was wearing a translator.

  "Sir," Gregory said, "The Nordakian authorities have identified you and told us you speak Amer fluently, but we shall continue with this little charade if you prefer. I want you to tell me of your role in this fiasco. I warn you that I already know most of the story, so if you lie or misrepresent the fact, I will know."

  Gregory stared hard at the Nordakian, who seemed totally unfazed by the glare. He refused to offer any information.

  "You have nothing to say?"

  When he didn't speak up, Gregory said, "Very well. You will be charged with sedition and turned over to the courts for trial and sentencing. If you are found guilty, and I'm quite sure you will be, the sentence will most likely be stiff. Sedition and piracy are about the only laws on the books that still mandate the death penalty for extreme violators."

  "Nallick will save me," he said, "unless he wishes me to join him in the hereafter."

  "Is that all you have to say?"

  When the Nordakian said nothing else, Gregory stood up and left the interrogation room.

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  ~ November 5th, 2285 ~

  Admiral Holt was working at his desk when the message from Captain Gregory arrived. He selected it from his queue for immediate playback and sat back to watch and listen.

  "Sir, we have found the freighter we sought. A second maintenance bay near the stern of the cargo section contains a parts inventory for Nordakian fighters and lattice cannons, although there are no fighters in the bay. Still, I feel reasonably comfortable saying we've found the parties responsible for the attack on Loudescott.

  "The main ship itself has been destroyed. At first we believed a Raider ship was responsible, but my engineers have discovered that the entire cargo section was set with charges. It's our speculation that the leader of this group intended to destroy himself and all his followers, but the circuitry failed to detonate the cargo section so only the freighter was destroyed. The fate of those aboard the main ship is unknown. They might have died in the explosion or set a delayed charge and escaped in a smaller craft. There are no tugs in the ship, which is extremely unusual for a freighter.

  The cargo containers, in addition to being laden with food, clothing, medicine, and all the essentials needed for a new colony, are filled with stasis beds. We've found one hundred thirty-two recently used beds in the cargo spine tunnel. I'm guessing that a ship we spotted next to the cargo section just before we arrived was waking sleepers and taking them aboard. The ship went FTL just as we reached the site. I chose not to pursue in case there were people aboard the cargo section who needed our assistance.

  "Unless you issue orders to the contrary, I'll have my tugs tow the cargo section to Higgins. At Light-75, it will take approximately sixty-three days for the journey.

  "Franklin Gregory, Captain of the Portland, message complete."

  Admiral Holt sat back in his chair and thought about the message as he tried to fit all the pieces together. Did the Raider ship, if it was a Raider ship, play a role in the attack on L
oudescott? And if they did, what were they after? And exactly why did a religious dissident group supposedly bound for Slabeca launch an attack on Loudescott in the first place? Mostly, he wished he knew the fate of Christa and the other military people assigned to the dig site, but that wouldn't be known until the person in charge decided to open the door of the facility.

  * * *

  "I have an update from the Hell Fire's captain," Councilman Fazid said when it was his turn to address the Lower Council. "Apparently, the people who attacked the Loudescott site are religious dissidents who have a grudge against Jenetta Carver. The attack was intended to be the opening engagement in an effort to take control of the planet. It seems they believed the planet would just fall into their hands. Maps found on the bridge of the freighter were more than a decade old, so they weren't aware the planet had become so heavily populated. It's obvious the people in command have had no military training or experience, and the rest are simple farmers and tradesmen. In any event, we don’t have to worry about a rival crime organization operating in GA space.

  "We subdued the ringleaders, but lost a number of good people when the freighter exploded. One of the dissidents said our people must have triggered a charge they had set to denote themselves, but which failed to explode for them. The person in charge still refuses to talk, but Captain Permenans has vowed that he will before he's turned over for slave indoctrination.

  "Following the takeover of the freighter, the Captain began an assessment of the cargo and found that it was mainly colony supplies, but he also discovered a great many Nordakians in stasis. He began awakening them and conveying them to the Hell Fire, but the sudden appearance of a Space Command warship necessitated their immediate departure from the scene after just a hundred thirty-two had been transported aboard. But— we do have a hundred thirty-two new slaves, plus the eight-man freighter crew for our mines in the Aguspod territory."

  "Is the operation over then, Ahil?" Councilwoman Overgaard asked.

  "No, but most of the people involved have completed their tasks and returned to their former roles. The expenditures from this point forward will be minimal, but we're still hoping for significant gains. The profit from the slaves alone will cover most of the expenses for the operation. It's doubtful the Spaccs will bemoan the loss of these religious zealots."

  "It almost seems like we've done Space Command's job for them," Chairman Strauss said.

  "Inadvertently, I suppose we have. But it's proved profitable."

  * * *

  On November 14th, three weeks after sealing the facility, Christa made a decision to open the door. They'd heard no explosions to indicate that anyone was attempting to break in, and it was safe to assume that Space Command was either already there or about to descend en masse on whomever might be waiting to oppose them. She'd earlier told the Dakistian engineers to return the air pressure in the facility to normal levels. There was a slight increase of water on the floor of the Vault level, but nothing to get unduly concerned over.

  With her meager Marine forces at the ready, she and Carmoody prepared to unlock the door. Even Lt. Uronson was on hand. He had made considerable progress with the help of the nano-bots, and, while not ready for full duty, he was determined to be there to assist. Forced to take up residence in the facility during an emergency meant that all but the Marines bivouacked there had no extra clothing, so everyone had been wearing the light grey jumpsuits included with the provisions sent from North Pendleton when Christa expected to feed and clothe awakening sleepers. For this occasion, both Christa and Carmoody were back in proper uniform.

  Christa carefully placed the cylinder against the correct circle on the door and turned it as required. When she gave the command to unlock, she was gratified to hear the faint sound of a locking bar retracting into the door. Christa and Carmoody stepped away and joined the Marines with their weapons at the ready before giving the command to open. If there was an enemy camped on the doorstep, she was ready to close it just as quickly.

  As the door slid back into its pocket without warning, a blur of bodies outside jumped to face the opening. The Marines inside the facility tensed for action, then relaxed as they recognized the half dozen Marines who had been lounging in the tunnel. The Marines outside the facility likewise recognized their fellows inside and relaxed their stance.

  Sergeant Flegetti stood upright, breathed, smiled, and stepped forward into the facility to report to Lt. Uronson. "Sir, it's great to see you again. We didn't know if any of the squad had made it." Noticing the cane Uronson was using to stand, he said, "Uh, were you injured, sir?"

  "A lattice round took a joy ride around my rib cage while I was helping an injured civilian. But the doc says I'll be a hundred percent in a few weeks."

  "That's good news, sir. Did all our guys make it?"

  "Yes. I was the only casualty, which is amazing. It was a surprise attack, so we didn't have a chance to get into our armor."

  "Damn, I wish we had been here to help out, sir. We arrived back a few hours after the attack. We didn't know nothing about it until the MAT pilot was about to land and spotted all the bodies around the LZ. He pulled up so we could get into our armor before coming in hot to drop us off. The Colonel is topside. Do you need help getting there, sir?"

  "I can make it, Sergeant," he said, waving off the offer of assistance.

  "Yes sir," Flegetti said as he stepped back out of the way.

  Christa walked topside behind the Marines with Madu and Carmoody. The Marines in the tunnel had radioed ahead, so Lt. Colonel Diminjik was hurrying towards the tunnel when they emerged. Lt. Uronson braced to attention and saluted Diminjik, who returned the salute and hurried past the Lieutenant to get to Christa.

  "Commander Carver, I am delighted to see you alive and well, ma'am. We've had some anxious times since learning of the attack here."

  "It was pretty gruesome, Colonel."

  "Yes. Perhaps it will provide some comfort to know that the people responsible have been apprehended."

  "Wonderful. Who were they and what was the reason for the attack?"

  "A band of religious dissidents from Nordakia apparently had designs on taking over Dakistee for their new colony. I guess they realized they had bitten off far more than they could chew and bugged out after attacking this site."

  "But why pick this site?"

  "I don't know, ma'am. I imagine you'll learn quite a bit more when you're briefed for your new post."

  "My new post?"

  "As commanding officer."

  "Commanding officer of what?"

  "You've been named as the commanding officer for the Dakistee outpost."

  "You mean the Loudescott outpost."

  "No, ma'am. You're the new commanding officer for the Dakistee Outpost, which includes responsibility for the entire planet. I report directly to you now."

  Christa just stared at Diminjik for a few seconds, then said, "When did this come about?"

  "As I understand it, the Admiralty Board made the appointment several weeks ago. May I say I'm delighted to serve in your command. I hope this appointment means we'll be getting a few of the things I've been requesting for the improvement of planetary security."

  "Thank you, Colonel. I'm at a bit of a loss for words right now. Perhaps after I find out exactly what's expected of me, I can brief you."

  "Yes, ma'am. As soon as I received word you had opened the facility, I notified the ships in orbit. The captains will be down shortly to confer with you."

  "What ships?"

  "There are two SC destroyers and a diplomatic yacht over us."

  Christa couldn't resist glancing skyward, although she knew she wouldn't be able to see ships in geosynchronous orbit without special optical equipment. Even at four hundred meters in length, an SC destroyer is a small target when it's thirty-five thousand kilometers up.

  As Lt. Col. Diminjik turned to confer with Lt. Uronson, Madu said to Christa, "What's going on?"

  "The Colonel has just infor
med me that I've been put in command of the planet."

  "My planet?"

  "Well, mine also." Pointing towards Fort Carver, Christa said, "I was born about a kilometer in that direction."

  "Don't we get a say about who is in charge?"

  "You will. In situations like this, the military usually assumes command until a planetary government is established. The Galactic Alliance is a civilian organization made up of elected representatives from all the member worlds. Space Command and the Space Marine Corps are the enforcement arm, but we take our orders from the Galactic Alliance Council. They assign us to act in a protectorate capacity until you set up a government and are ready to assume control of your own affairs."

  "And who decides when that is achieved?"

  "You do, once the established government represents a majority of the citizens. At that point you tell us you're ready to take over and we leave."

  "Just like that."

  "Yes, just like that. Of course there will be all kinds of official diplomatic signings with newsies hanging on every word and thousands of images being recorded for posterity." Christa smiled and added, "You can't turn over a planet without dozens of people getting their name in the news."

  "And until then, you're in charge?"

  "It looks that way." Christa sighed lightly. "I'd rather be back aboard my ship, but the Colonel said the order comes from the Admiralty Board so there's no getting around it."

  "What is it you wish to avoid? It can't be the responsibility."

  "I don't fear the responsibility. It's the political part I dislike. With a situation like we have here, the schemers and connivers are going to be lining up to take advantage of me any way they can. They'll use their political connections to try to bend me to their will and will scream to the heavens when they fail to sway me. I'm not a politician and have never had any aspirations in that direction. But in this job I'll be forced to deal with them on a daily basis. It will be a miserable, thankless job."