by Britt Ringel
By the time the group assembled, Lieutenant Ivers finished entering commands into his arm console. “Captain, do you still want that preliminary damage estimate on the pirate?”
Covington judged the tactical plot on the wall screen. “No. I don’t think they’re stopping.”
Ivers looked over to Covington and asked, “Then can anyone explain why those ships attacked us?”
* * *
Hawk’s delay in the Enyo system totaled twenty-one hours. Six of those hours were spent in transit to and from the main orbital where Covington issued his sworn statement to Federation authorities. After an efficient investigation by local law enforcement, Hawk was determined to have no culpability in the combat and was released from Federation custody.
Additionally, Covington was invited back to Enyo when the individuals deemed responsible for the attack were arrested. SFS Truncheon had sent immediate word of Salvage One-One’s criminal attack to Nyx via standata carried on the next vessel diving to the system, a Federation freighter named Res Ipsa Loquitor. The delay between the pirate vessel’s arrival in Nyx and news of its actions would be only ninety minutes, leading Truncheon’s captain to conclude that the Salvage One-One’s detention was simply a matter of time.
Heskan was not so sure, stalwart in the belief that the pirate crew must have formulated an escape plan. He kept his reservations to himself though, unwilling to make waves in the Federation lest the local authorities take interest in him or his friends. The last thing he wanted was Federation bureaucracy digging into his past.
During the investigation, Hawk’s engineering and operations sections worked slavishly to repair the brig as best they could. The privately owned repair yard on the Enyo orbital, although sympathetic to the small warship’s situation, had apologetically quoted outrageous prices for its services. This was necessary because Hawk was not a Federation vessel and therefore not entitled to the terms of the yard’s contract with the major government. Charging less than full price now would prove counterproductive to all independent repair yards when future treaties and agreements were negotiated with the corporate systems. “After all,” the manager explained, “what incentive would you corporate folk have to think long-term if I gave you a deal now?”
Despite the inconvenience, Covington secured the necessary materials to make his ship spaceworthy enough to continue their voyage. Hawk would certainly need several weeks moored to Seshafi’s repair dock when she returned but, barring catastrophe, the brig would sail safely back to her homeport.
Even with the necessary material, the Seshafian general approach to repair efforts was a discernible contrast to Heskan’s Brevic expectations. He found it almost lackadaisical. Immediately following the battle of Seshafi, Heskan and Vernay had insisted on nearly despotic attempts to bring Elathra up to a state vaguely resembling battle-readiness. To their amazement, the Seshafian crew simply did not have the same sense of urgency. At the time, it seemed the crew felt it was obvious the ship would be decommissioned and there was no reason to expend such a mammoth effort to attempt repairs. Heskan later found that indifferent attitude prevailed through the entire fleet. After his promotion to fleet commander, his first meeting to discuss the timetables for Seshafi’s fleet repairs had been met with astonishment and disbelief.
It was not until Archduke Covington offered a reason for the seeming apathy that Heskan gained some perspective. Corporate battles were waged so infrequently and over such long timeframes that there was seldom good reason to scramble through repair efforts. Each skirmish was decisive in bringing about a resolution to the issue at hand and corporations engaged in war on a basis measured in years, sometimes decades.
The clarification both quelled Heskan’s fury at the apparent lack of support and armed him with the counterpoints needed to create the sense of urgency he felt the situation warranted. When his fleet had insisted repeatedly how incredibly swift the regenerative efforts were already taking place, Heskan’s riposte was that if that were true then enlisting assistance from the Lagrin system would have been unnecessary.
Sitting in his guest cabin on Hawk as they tunneled toward Nyx, Heskan recalled the butting of heads and verbal scuffles in the briefing rooms regarding fleet repairs as he reviewed the brig’s status. Next to him, Vernay studied the same report. It was clear that Covington was pleased with the amount of work his crew had accomplished during the short time afforded them. All hull breaches were sealed, and not just by containment fields but by actual, alloy plates. Full power to the center propulsion unit had been restored although the starboard Prattwhitt-43 drive would never run again. Further, Covington had proudly pointed out his crew’s effort to remove the entirety of the starboard quad GP laser turret to speed its inevitable replacement when back in Seshafi.
Heskan had complimented the young captain on his initiative while secretly questioning the wisdom of removing remains that could serve minimally as protection to the compartments behind it while still in “enemy” space. When Vernay showed no such discretion, Heskan softened the blow by telling the dejected captain that he understood the likelihood of further combat was remote.
His eyes settled on the report’s summation. Hawk was down to two-thirds propulsion and firepower. It won’t matter, he told himself. We can simply take a different route back to Seshafi if I’m that concerned the Roberts Clan will make a second attempt.
The ambush itself was far more disconcerting than Hawk’s current condition. Heskan had avoided giving Lieutenant Ivers a lengthy explanation of just who the pirates were and, mercifully, the Federation authorities did not request a statement from him or any of his friends. As protocol instructed, they were only interested in the bridge officers of both ships, not their passengers.
Heskan looked away from his datapad. “What do you think?”
“I think we still need to teach these people about repair priorities,” Vernay said matter-of-factly. She gestured down at her datapad. “At least they take firefighting seriously.”
“Beyond that, Stacy.”
Vernay dropped her head as she thought briefly. After a moment’s consideration, she replied, “Well, it really won’t matter if Hawk is ready to fight on the way home because if the Roberts Clan had more ships available, they would’ve used them back in Enyo.” She placed her datapad on the desk and ran a hand through her blonde hair.
Heskan noticed that while wearing civilian clothes, Vernay seemed to prefer her hair free of the braid that Brevic regulations dictated for sailors with long hair. It was a striking difference that softened the woman’s face from battle-weary veteran to impish beauty. “How do you think they found us?” he asked.
Vernay shrugged a shoulder and exhaled. “I don’t have any clue. Even if they were able to track Hussy somehow, that would have only taken them to Hollara. We’re a long way from the Commonwealth. The scarier question is will they make another attempt down the road.”
“I’ve wondered that too. Worse yet, if a pirate outfit can find us, it’s only a matter of time before the Republic tracks us down.”
“Does this mean you aren’t settling in Seshafi?”
Heskan had asked himself that very question and it chilled him. “I don’t want to live my life always looking over my shoulder, running from phantoms,” he said, haunted.
Vernay’s expression was an ocean of sympathy. “I don’t want that either, Garrett.” She dropped her head and whispered, “I’m so tired of it all.”
Heskan looked at his companion. The woman who epitomized inner strength had seemed very frail the past month. He reached out to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He nearly jumped when she covered his hand with hers.
Vernay raised her head and focused weary, blue eyes on him. “I’m on empty, Garrett.”
Heskan smiled and promised weakly, “Just this last time.”
“I’m tired of fighting, tired of death. I just want peace and to know what it feels like to settle down. I want to share my life with someone… grow old wi
th him.” She sighed when she finished her sentence but did not relinquish her grip over his hand. After a doleful pause, she said, “That’s never going to happen if we always have to run from the Republic.”
“You don’t have to run,” Heskan insisted. “They’re after me.”
Muscles tensed around her jawline as she removed her hand from his. She shook her head defiantly. “That’s not an option. You should know by now that I’d never let you face a life on the run on your own.”
Heskan felt a lump rise in his throat. What did I ever do to deserve this kind of loyalty? He swallowed before saying, “Fine. Then neither of us will run. The archduke already knows our concerns and he’s sympathetic. When he finds out about the attempt here, I’m sure he’ll only want to tighten security around us.” He squeezed her shoulder as his voice took on a determined edge. “We’ve fought so hard for everyone else: the miners in Skathi, our shipmates and the Republic, Isabella and her crew… even Covington and AmyraCorp.”
Heskan looked away briefly as he recounted all the clashes of the past before looking deeply into the eyes of the woman before him. “This time, we’ll do it for ourselves. Seshafi is our final destination. That’s where we’ll all make our home, and if someone or something tries to take it from us, then we fight like hell to protect it.”
Chapter 16
The central planet of Nessus was a whirlwind of activity. The docking queue was four hours long for Hawk to acquire a brief, thirty-minute window to attach to a secondary orbital whose sole purpose was the loading and unloading of personnel and equipment. Before casting off from the small station to hold in geosynchronous orbit around the planet, Hawk offloaded her passengers, who began the waiting process anew. This delay was much shorter for Heskan and company. Shuttles from the orbital to the planet ran like clockwork and Heskan’s designated ride arrived at the docking bay five minutes after the brig had cast off.
While its passengers were bombarded with advertisements extoling the various ways to spend their credits on the approaching planet, the shuttle hurriedly transited through the atmosphere to arrive at one of thirty landing pads designated exclusively to the orbital. The travelers were escorted efficiently off the shuttle and moments after they were safely away the craft, whose engines had never shut down, lifted off to ferry its next customers, already disembarking from yet another recently docked vessel.
Nessus itself was a G6V main sequence star. Sol’s slightly cooler twin provided a habitable zone nearly identical to the Terran star system. The primary planet’s original name, Rättvisa, had quickly become obsolete, replaced simply by the name of her star. Her capital city, humanity’s largest city by population, was nearly as vertical as it was horizontal.
Heskan had stood in Bree’s capital city once and any city could seem impressive from inside. However, the sheer volume of traffic on the ground and in the sky on Nessus was unlike anything he had witnessed before. The seemingly endless lines of aircars flowed in and around the capital’s structures like blood flowing through arteries. From the relative safety of the terminal, Heskan found himself gawking at the controlled chaos expanding into infinity around him.
To his right, he heard Selvaggio enthusiastically pointing out a grav-freighter navigating impossibly tight quarters to dock at a landing pad one hundred meters away. The deep resonation of the freighter’s engines vibrated inside Heskan’s chest as the huge transport maneuvered around buildings with just meters to spare. He felt his jaw drop open at the certain calamity but told himself that its operators must surely know what they were doing.
“Captain Heskan, I presume?”
Heskan tore his eyes away from the spectacle to look upon a young man in an expensive Newmani suit. He dropped his bag and extended a hand. “Yes, that’s me. You’re with AmyraCorp?”
The man nodded eagerly. “Yes, Daniel Miller. Please call me Dan. I’m assistant counsel to Mr. Wilder. We’re in a short recess so he sent me to collect you. Mr. Wilder sends his apologies for not meeting you in person but he’s very busy preparing for the questioning of an IaCom witness.”
Heskan bobbed his head at the impeccably manicured gentleman. He had only experienced one meeting with Wilder, the attorney who sat atop AmyraCorp’s legal dealings, but based on how busy he seemed, Heskan was not surprised that the man’s schedule had no room for something as mundane as picking up trivial witnesses from a spaceport. “How is the hearing going?”
The lawyer motioned for Heskan’s group to follow him as he answered. “Pretty good although it’s a steep hill to climb. Mr. Wilder’s brilliant motion to tie our private action against Wallace to our cause of action against IaCom has borne some fruit.”
“There are two hearings?” Vernay asked from beside Heskan.
Miller hedged. “Sort of, Commander. Both our private and general actions arise from the same event, Cooke’s death, so we’re able to tie the two together which allows us to include evidence that might have only been available to one of them to both actions instead. Does that make any sense?”
“A little,” Vernay answered. “So, anything good for us that could, otherwise, only be used in one hearing can now be included in the second?”
Miller’s eyebrows shot upward in surprise. “That’s exactly right! You explained it better than I did.”
The group exited the main terminal and stepped onto the building’s gravity-assisted walkway. Sensors inside the walkway analyzed each individual, calibrating precisely how much inertial compensation was required before launching them to a thirty kilometer per hour speed. The riders barely rocked.
“When do I testify?” Heskan asked. “Will I have to testify?”
“Afraid so but it will be very brief,” Miller said as he pulled out his datapad. “Mr. Wilder is leaning heavily on the holo-log from Elathra for some of his arguments so he needs you to attest to their veracity.” He typed rapidly on the face of the instrument. “Let me flash you the text of the question I’m going to ask you when you’re on the stand. I’ve included your answer. Obviously, tell the truth but my model answer contains what I want the judges to hear. Let me know if there’s a problem.”
Overhead, a disembodied female voice warned the group they were arriving at the end of the walkway. Inertial compensators made the transition from racing down the long stretch of the spaceport to standing still nearly imperceptible. Heskan stepped off the walkway and said, “I’ll look over it. Did you say that you were questioning me?”
Miller nodded excitedly. “Yes, Mr. Wilder is letting me handle your testimony. He’s going to be in a meeting with IaCom’s main counsel then. There’s a chance this whole thing might reach settlement rather than risk an actual bench ruling.” The young man added, “Don’t worry, Captain. I may just be an associate but this is a piece of cake. You’ll be on the stand about two minutes, plus whatever IaCom’s attorney wants to ask you. Frankly, we doubt they’ll ask you anything.” Miller swiped further at his datapad to summon the nearest available commercial transport.
Vernay dropped her bag to fish out her datapad and immediately began taking video of the frenzied activity surrounding them. She recorded kilometers-long lines of opposing air traffic that were separated by mere meters and asked, “Why wouldn’t IaCom ask the captain any questions? And, do you think I’ll have to testify?”
Miller smiled, making him appear years younger than he was. “Answering your second question first, no, you won’t be needed. In fact, all of you but Captain Heskan have been stricken as potential witnesses in an agreement we hashed out a week ago. The judicial panel pushed both sides very hard to pare down our witness lists. They’re very busy and want this trial over as soon as possible.” Miller’s eyes darted between his datapad and skyward to the north. He compared the image of the air vehicle on his screen to the multitude of oncoming traffic zooming overhead. “We doubt IaCom will cross-examine Captain Heskan because they simply aren’t allowed to ask the questions they want to. I understand that there are concerns about his
past but that’s safely wrapped in the bubble of privateer confidentiality. Given that fact, what’s the point of asking a hostile witness a question you don’t already know the answer to?”
Vernay smiled in relief over not having to testify. “I guess that’s the first rule in cross-examination, huh?”
“No,” the lawyer shook his head, “the first rule is never ask the last question.”
“Huh?”
“Suppose there’s a rear-end aircar accident. You ask enough questions to establish who the driver was and that he hit the car in front of him. You never ask the last question… ‘Why didn’t you stop in time?’ because he will, inevitably, give you a reason, maybe a good one, and you don’t want the judge or jury to hear that. Let that last question go unasked and just debate in closing arguments that it’s obvious why he hit the car ahead of him… he was negligent.” Miller pointed skyward. “There’s our ride.”
The large taxi’s thrusters fired to kill its momentum as it settled centimeters from the ground. The right side of the vehicle slid upward to provide easy access for loading luggage and boarding.
Heskan tossed his bag in and helped his party stow theirs. Their larger deployment bags, far too cumbersome to have taken aboard the atmospheric shuttle, would arrive at their rooms in the next few hours.
Heskan ensured everyone had boarded the large vehicle before climbing into it himself. Ahead of him, Miller was conferring with the vehicle’s operator, flashing the licensing necessary to take his taxi into the judicial compound of Nessus. Once they entered the compound, they would have to unload from the cab and ride a sanctioned taxi the rest of the way to their lodgings, but Miller’s credentials were enough to get them past the first barrier of security.
