Colonel Pope, stunned by Dira’s plasma fire, was unconscious and being held within a confinement cell within the Jumelle’s brig. The three brothers, along with the Craing, Jeebrie, had initialized their stolen SuitPac devices and phase-shifted into the nearby asteroid field. Apparently Brent had gotten fairly well-versed with the practice of phase-shifting. Other events in space that Jason had not been aware of while on the Goliath—but first he needed a shower and change of clothes. Coming out of the head, Dira was waiting for him sitting on the end of the bed.
“Shouldn’t you be attending to your new patients?” Jason asked.
“And watch them … what? Lie in bed doing absolutely nothing? … no, they’re fine for a few minutes.”
“Hey … thank you for showing up the way you did. I was expecting Gunny with a team of Sharks.”
“That would have taken another ten minutes … something told me in that brief NanoText of yours that things couldn’t wait. I grabbed Ricket, who was standing right next to me in Medical, and with his help, determined the multiple phase-shifts needed to cross space to reach the Goliath.”
“Well … you were one fierce combatant. Ricket too.”
Dira said, “Look … Gunny wants to get you up to speed on current circumstances. While you were laying around on the Goliath, the Jumelle came under attack.”
Dressed in a fresh uniform, and feeling mostly back to normal—Jason pulled Dira up to her feet and kissed her. She began to pull away and he pulled her back into him and kissed her again. She laughed, “No … this is not going to happen right now. I wasn’t kidding there’s a lot going on and the captain of this ship needs to get back into the proverbial saddle.”
He gave her wry smile. “You’re right … I’ll have her brief me in my ready room.”
* * *
Gunny Orion, Ricket and Billy were already seated when Jason entered his quarters’ ready room.
Billy looked annoyed and started talking before Jason had a chance to sit down at the head of the table. “I’m going to kill those backwoods sons of bitches.”
Jason let out a long breath, he too wanted the same thing.
“I’ve never felt so … pathetic … useless,” Billy continued.
“You’re not alone, Billy. Gunny … tell me about the course of events, here in local space. Something about the Jumelle being attacked?” Jason asked.
“Ship and crew were never in any real danger, Cap … from what we make of it, it was a small fleet of mining vessels. Some of the ships were well armed … plasma canons … rail guns.”
“Where did they come from … what were they after?” Billy asked.
Orion didn’t make eye-contact with Billy, but instead kept her eyes on Jason. “The majority of the vessels had Picket Mining logos on their hulls … and in the brief communications we established, apparently this section of space has been annexed. We’d crossed into a no trespass zone.”
“Annexed?” Jason said. “We’re within Alliance space parameters … well within. You can’t annex anything here. Commerce is free to pass through space here unmolested.”
Orion shrugged and made an exasperated expression. Ricket shifted in his seat and looked as if he had something to say.
“Go ahead, Ricket,” Jason prompted.
“I’ve been studying the situation, Captain. It’s not one company or one family at play here. What you have are feuding pirate syndicates.”
“Seriously?” Jason said. He thought of his own past dealings with interstellar pirates, most prominently the infamous and long deceased Captain Stalls. Jason shook his head. I really hate pirates.
“Yes. It’s primarily two powerful syndicates—both are heavily vested with their own mining operations mainly within the Oort belt. It’s the fastest growing industry in the system … hundreds of billions of dollars at stake.”
“So how do the Pickets play into all this?”
“They’re a big part of one of the competing syndicates. The Pickets provide the workers and the equipment, Captain.”
“And the pirates provide the sales channels … illegal or otherwise,” Jason added.
“Yes, Captain.”
This was the type of thing Jason would have loved to hand off to the U.S. Fleet—but this fit well within Star Watch parameters. And with the regional redistricting of the organization, this was most definitely Jason’s, and the Jumelle’s, district.
“And the attempt to kidnap Nan? That’s a part of this?”
Orion said, “Definitely. We need to talk to Colonel Pope … He should be awake by now.”
CHAPTER 37
Pope was not only awake, he was highly agitated. Jason heard his rantings as soon as he entered the Jumelle’s brig. It was empty with the exception of a guard, one of Billy’s Sharks, and Colonel Pope. Jason passed by several empty confinement cells and stopped when he reached Pope’s. Jason looked through the energized, bluish translucent energy field at the colonel sitting upon his cell-bed.
Seeing Jason, Pope rose to his feet—his face twisting into angry rage. “How dare you confine me like this … like a common criminal … a thug. I’ve served my country—”
Jason was about to put the older man in his place, when from behind, Nan’s voice interjected.
“Shut up, Pope … you’ll be spending the rest of your life behind bars … that is if you’re not executed for your crimes.”
Jason hadn’t heard Nan enter the brig. She too had showered and changed. Her hair was still wet and there was a flush on her cheeks from the hot water. She stood beside Jason and looked at Pope with contempt and something else—hurt. Jason surmised there had been something to this relationship, at least for Nan, and the realization that it had all been a ploy—well, she was still coming to grips with it.
“I left office as President of the United States with the highest popularity ratings of any president … including Abe Lincoln and George Washington. So believe me when I say that what I recommend … will have an immense impact on the eventual sentence handed down to you by the military tribunal. I’m going to give you one chance to come clean … one chance to lay things out … without holding anything back. I detect you’re lying, or holding back information, I’m out of here and you can deal with the fallout.”
Pope seemed to deflate before their eyes. He looked at Nan with sorrowful eyes—as if he was about to cry. He said, “I’m sorry … Nan … I never meant to—”
“Don’t you dare go there, Pope. I need to know exactly where my nephew is … how to retrieve him and what your arrangement is with the Pickets.”
Jason signaled the guard, “Bring us some chairs … we’re going to be here a while.”
* * *
With the energy field deactivated, Nan and Jason sat and listened to Pope unravel his bazaar story. How he had first heard of a rare dark matter compound discovered within a certain area within the Oort cloud from an inter-stellar pirate named Stuart Futch, commonly known as Stu-Fu. The pirate was a middle-aged American who’d been captured from his small mid-western farm during the early years of the Craing war. He and a band of other prisoners had escaped from the light cruiser’s jail cell, no small feat in itself, and within three days had taken control of the Craing craft. Stu-Fu spent the rest of the war raiding Craing supply outposts and even smaller military installations. He’d become an expert at evading direct confrontations—using his Craing vessel to slip into hostile territory and just as quickly slip away—with the vessel’s holds filled to the brim with everything from food supplies, to weapons, to anything else that could be traded on the rapidly burgeoning open black market. Because Stu-Fu had directed his energies toward a common enemy—the Craing—the Alliance at that time was unconcerned with his activities. Pope had become friends, of sorts, with the pirate and—over time—had been talked into helping the pirate with several gray-area endeavors—including the exchanging of military-grade weapons and other supplies for information. All under the table stuff. When the Craing war ended, Pope n
o longer had a need for Stu-Fu’s services.
“Is that when things changed … when you went over to the dark side of things?” Nan asked.
Pope nodded, “I’d gotten in too deep with the pirate. Too many years staying on the fringe of what was legal. He’d kept a file … a very in-depth file on all of our transactions. If it got into the wrong hands within the U.S. fleet, I’d be arrested and they’d throw away the key.”
“Which is happening anyway,” Jason said.
Pope didn’t reply.
Nan said, “So it was this Stu-Fu character that came up with this elaborate plan to kidnap me? To use my nephew to lure me into space?”
Pope nodded.
“And how does this dark matter compound work into all of this?”
Pope said, “Look … the pirates are keyed in to all kinds of commerce. If something becomes a hot commodity, he’s on a mission to get it and exploit it. When it comes to DM2 … that’s what it’s commonly called … dark matter squared … it’s a game-changer. Hell … everyone wants it. Its output properties are phenomenal … Enables propulsion systems to be on par with Caldurian technology.”
Jason didn’t like hearing that. Until now, the remaining Caldurian vessels within Star Watch were so far advanced that nothing else, from any of the thousands of intelligent known systems out there, even came close.
Jason thought about what Ricket had told him earlier about squabbling pirates in a section of the Oort cloud and this seemed to fit with what Pope was saying.
“So get back to holding Nan as a hostage,” Jason said.
“Stu-Fu was aware of my … new relationship … with Nan. And he was keenly aware of her influence, still, with various U.S. Fleet and Alliance decision-makers. Simply put, Stu-Fu wanted a means to legitimize his operations and become the sole provider of DM2 to all of the Alliance districts and beyond. With the stroke of a pen, he’d no longer have to fight with a growing numbers of other pirate syndicates to sell the rare dark matter compound. He’d make hundreds of billions of dollars and no longer have to worry about the U.S. Fleet invading his installations. Knowing Nan’s reputation for being above-board and honest—there were few options available. With little digging, we discovered Nan had a nephew who was currently living and working in space. Someone who was easily accessible.”
“And the pirate used the Pickets to help orchestrate the whole thing?” Jason said.
“I never liked the plan.” Pope looked at Nan, “I never wanted to put you in danger. I was assured you would never be harmed.”
Nan rolled her eyes and shook her head.
Pope continued, “Things started to fall apart with the weakest link in the plan. Fucking Orloff. We all knew he had issues … a predisposition for violence. What he did have, was an uncanny ability to track and hunt all sorts of game. He was good at it. Orloff was relegated to the job of tracking down Ryan and capturing him—to do so in any means necessary.”
“So Orloff has him … my nephew is safe?” Nan asked, looking hopeful.
“Maybe. We’ve had only a few communications with him. Apparently this small freight delivery man has been difficult to capture. That’s not good. It only increased Orloff’s psychological impulses … he’s as crazy as they come. Bastard scares the hell out of me. The plan was to have Ryan taken to a small, hidden planet within the Oort cloud. The place is nearly impossible to get to … even by a ship with phase-shift capabilities … it would be too wide to shift into before a house-sized asteroid—which are moving along at tremendous speeds … would slam right into it. No … only by traversing a known passageway through the field can anyone hope to land a ship on that planet.”
“So there’s a chance Ryan is there … being held there by Orloff?”
Pope didn’t look optimistic, “Yeah … Orloff, and probably his brothers too. My suspicion … and I’m sorry, Nan … is that Orloff has killed or is in the process of killing him as we speak. Orloff doesn’t care about monetary gain … wealth … he cares about his own personal satisfaction and his odd pursuits.”
“You better hope he is alive, asshole,” Jason said. “Tell us the name of this planet and how to reach it.”
“Alaster-Rei, and I already told you … it’s impossible to reach. That’s why they chose it.”
CHAPTER 38
Brent Picket was by no means an accomplished phase-shifter. What he understood about the Star Watch-issued battle suits was just enough to be dangerous. Hundreds, if not thousands, of HUD menus and submenus could be accessed at any time—purposely or by mistake. The latter was more the norm for Brent. He knew basic comms, the very basics about how to initiate a group-shift with others wearing battle suits. What he was a little fuzzy about was establishing complex, far-away, drop locations. He imagined that once one was familiar with them—had been properly trained—he could pretty much hop around to any location within several thousand miles with simplistic ease.
So when things went sideways on the Goliath, when two beings flashed into the cabin—a short little Craing dude and a violet-skinned female, and what a spectacular vision she was—Brent and his brothers found themselves not knowing how to properly respond as plasma fire erupted from their wrists. How the hell did they do that? It only underscored how little he knew what these suits were capable of.
The only thing Brent could come up with was getting them out of there—fast! He’d use his somewhat practiced group phase-shift experience to put them somewhere else. But, at the time, he didn’t have a clue where he would be sending them: neither the direction nor the distance. As it did turn out, in an instant flash he sent himself, Larry, Payne, and Jeebrie right smack into the asteroid field. He cursed aloud as spinning ice rocks the size of fucking Winnebagos flew past them—above, below, and on all sides. Flashing into space, they all screamed like little girls until they realized that somehow, miraculously, they’d found some kind of slipstream band within the field of rocks that was free of flying projectiles.
So now they were here, floating in space. Brent had pretty much tuned his brothers out while he tried to figure a way out of the muddle.
Larry said, “I think I shit in my suit.”
“Spare me the details,” Brent replied.
“I’ve never been so scared in my life,” Payne added.
Brent continued to ignore his brothers. He saw that Jeebrie was drifting deeper into the asteroid field. “Jeebrie, you need to stay with us! You’re getting way too close to—”
He watched in horror as Jeebrie drifted directly into the path of an oncoming, bowling ball-size asteroid. One second Jeebrie was there and the next only a heavy mist of flesh, blood, and mangled battle suit remained.
Brent’s ears rang from Larry’s ongoing screams.
Obviously, this safe haven slipstream was anything but safe. Turning his head, he saw the distant small planet Alaster-Rei, nestled far away beyond the belt. It would take many phase-shifts to reach it. The only other option was to return to open space. He looked at his HUD readings. For now, their air reserves were fine. Same with the suit’s power reserves. Nope, he thought. Once back in open space they’d surely run out of air and die. Who would ever find them? So onward they must go, hoping and praying they didn’t end up like poor Jeebrie. At least if they did, their end would be quick.
Using the unfamiliar HUD sub-menus for phase-shifting, Brent focused full concentration on the task ahead. The problem was not having a definitive end location when floating in open space.
“Brent … we’re drifting,” Payne said.
“I just need a minute.” Brent inputted his best guess coordinates—ones that would take them in the right direction—toward the planet Alaster-Rei.
Larry, his voice still an irritating whine, shouted out, “Brent! We’re moving into the rocks!”
Brent glanced up. They were mere feet from a blur of ice rocks streaming past them. Going ahead, he initiated the group phase-shift and closed his eyes.
* * *
Brent, openin
g his eyes, looked about for his brothers. Okay … there’s one and there’s the other. He let out a sigh of relief and began inputting the coordinates for the next phase-shift. There has to be a way to do multiple phase-shifts with this suit, he thought, though he had neither the time nor the patience to figure that out. Larry was saying something and, again, Brent tuned him out. Damn! Mistakenly transposing two digits, he cursed the whole plan. He cursed Pope for bringing his harebrained scheme to them in the first place, and Mamma for going along with it. Next, he cursed Stu-fu and his pirates, who surely were going to kill them all for not holding up to their end of the bargain. Sure … on paper it had all sounded good; sounded great! Corner the market mining this Dark Matter DM2 shit. Make billions! The pirates had all the right connections; all the means necessary to sell as much material as the Pickets’ mining operations could excavate. The big cog in the works was obtaining official mining rights. Without the rights, every Tom, Dick and Harry competitor would fly there, like all those in the Oklahoma land rush of the late 1800s. Pope had assured them that the ex-president lady would do anything to get her nephew back. The kid was super-important to her—a last connection to her dead sister, or something like that. A cluster fuck—the whole plan was in a tailspin, unless, of course, they could safely reach the planet.
Brent, after initiating the next phase-shift, opened his eyes and again counted both brothers, drifting right alongside him. Perhaps he was starting to get the hang of it, after all. He went right to work on the next set of coordinates and noticed, aided by a helpful tips prompt, that he could pretty much cut and paste all the work he’d been doing. That would speed things up significantly!
Five more phase-shifts and they were still alive. Brent made the conscious decision a while back to never look at what was either coming at them or passing by them, and to ignore Larry’s perpetual whining. If they ever got back onto solid ground, he promised himself the gratification of beating his frizzy-haired sibling within an inch of his life.
Space Chase (Star Watch Book 5) Page 18
