Stand Against The Storm (The Maxwell Saga Book 4)

by Peter Grant

  There was a series of clicks from unlatching seatbelts and a rustle of feet as people stood. To Steve’s surprise, no-one rushed to leave. The hostages seemed almost hesitant. Eventually the mother of the three-year-old girl Kinnear had rescued took a deep breath, picked her up, and walked slowly down the ramp. Watching through the opening behind her, Steve saw a smartly dressed man stare, then run forward from the crowd to meet them, sweeping the woman and girl into his arms. Tears were clearly visible running down his cheeks.

  That broke the ice. The other hostages hurried down the ramp, spreading out to meet their own spouses and relatives as they ran towards them. A hubbub of laughter, tears and exclamations rose from the crowd as it gathered around the new arrivals. Steve glanced to his left, out of a viewport, to see a similar scene being played out around the cutter, which had landed fifty meters away.

  He waited until all the hostages had disembarked, then looked at the Qianjin spacers. “I can never thank you enough for your help. Without you we could never have done this. I’ll make sure the Eskishi authorities show their appreciation in proper form.”

  Kwok shook his head. “It’s we who should thank you, Sir. You treated us as professionals and equals from the start, rather than as convicts. You’ve helped to restore our pride. We owe you.”

  “We owe each other. Come on, let’s get out of here. I’m sure you want to rejoin your comrades at the depot.”

  He was conscious of a bone-crushing weariness, enough to almost – but not quite – dull the grief he felt at Gunnery Sergeant Kinnear’s loss. He pushed it aside as he forced himself to lead the small group down the ramp, all of them stepping out proudly, heads up. As his feet touched the hardstand he noticed a small group of people approaching. One of them signaled to him. He stared. Was that… could that possibly be Commander Doibro? It was!

  He snapped to attention as she hurried up to him ahead of the group, a beaming smile on her face, and saluted her. He couldn’t resist saying, “Senior Lieutenant Maxwell reports to the Commander under somewhat unusual circumstances, Ma’am!”

  She stifled a laugh. “So I see, Lieutenant – and I understand congratulations are in order.” She looked around. “I don’t believe you’ve met Governor Sirhan yet?”

  “No, Ma’am.” He saluted the tall man in his formal suit, and shook his hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, Sir.”

  “No, Lieutenant. It’s I who am honored to meet you. My wife and I owe you more than words can say.” He squeezed the tall, willowy woman who stood pressed tightly against him, each of them with an arm around the other. Steve recognized her as one of the passengers in the lifeboat.

  Before Steve could reply, the Governor turned to an officer standing a little behind him. “I understand you know Commodore Wu?”

  To Steve’s amazement, he did. He saluted again. “Good evening, Sir. The last time we met, you were a Commander on Midrash.”

  “Yes, and you were a Junior Lieutenant.” Wu returned his salute, smiling, then shook his hand. “I see you’ve been keeping yourself busy here.”

  “Er… in a manner of speaking, yes, Sir.”

  “Lieutenant-Colonel Battista sends his thanks and congratulations for all you’ve achieved, and his condolences at the loss of Gunnery Sergeant Kinnear. He’s headed back to his battalion to coordinate the recovery of the bodies from the cargo shuttle. He says he knows you’ll be busy tonight, so he’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “May I ask what you’re going to do tonight that will keep you busy?” the Governor asked curiously. “I’d have thought you’d want to shower and sleep more than anything.”

  “I do, Sir, but there are Gunnery Sergeant Kinnear’s comrades at the supply depot. I need to tell them how he died; then, if we can find a bottle of something decent, we’ll drink a toast to his memory. It’s something of a Marine tradition, Sir.” He’d never forgotten the wake held for their fallen comrades by the Marines who’d served under his temporary command at Rolla, just over two years before. They’d probably be drinking more than one toast to the Gunny tonight… a lot more than one. He was pretty sure the Qianjin spacers would be able to provide enough bottles.

  Commander Doibro put in, “You’re still officially detached to the Marines, Lieutenant, so go back to the depot for tonight. However, I’m going to recall you to Cybele as soon as possible. I expect that’ll happen sometime tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Ma’am. It’ll be good to get back aboard.”

  The Governor asked, “Are these the Qianjin prisoners who helped you aboard the shuttle?”

  “These are the Qianjin spacers, yes, Sir.”

  Sirhan didn’t miss the emphasis in Steve’s voice, or the implied rebuke. “Spacers, of course. Will you introduce me to them, please?”

  Steve introduced Kwok, who in turn presented the rest of his crew. The Governor thanked each of them individually. “I’ll be co-signing the Eksalansari’s commutations of sentence for all of you tomorrow. As soon as we can arrange shipping, you’ll be going home.”

  All the spacers broke into broad smiles. “We’ll look forward to that, thank you, Sir,” Kwok answered for them. He looked at Steve. “Where should we wait for you, Sir?”

  “I’ll have to arrange transport for us. Wait in the arrivals hall, please.”

  “Aye aye, Sir.” He led his spacers away.

  The Governor’s eyes followed them. “I’ll have to think of an appropriate reward for them,” he mused. “There’s also the problem of what to do with the rebels aboard that freighter.”

  Steve decided mentally, To hell with it! What have I got to lose? He said aloud, “Why not let them go, Sir?”

  “Let them GO?” All four of his audience spoke as one, goggling at him. The Governor added, “That’s… that’s insane! I can’t do that!”

  “Why not, Sir?”

  “They’ve got to be punished for all the damage they’ve done and the lives they’ve taken!”

  Steve fought back the exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm him. “How do you plan on convicting them, Sir? Where are your witnesses? What about courts of law?”

  “We don’t have functioning courts at present, but we can rebuild and restaff them. As for witnesses, they’re rebels! The whole planet knows what they’ve done!”

  “Yes, Sir, it does; but that’s still not the same as convicting them on the basis of evidence in a court of law. Are there enough surviving witnesses to testify against them? What’s more, if you convict them, how will you punish them? Sentence them to life on a prison planet? They’re already here!” The Governor could only stare at him.

  Steve continued, “What does it cost you to incarcerate one high-security prisoner, Sir? I presume the rebels would be classified as such.”

  “They certainly would! It costs us about a million lira per year for every high-security inmate.”

  “And how many active rebels are on the freighter, Sir, not counting their families?”

  “Three hundred and thirty-seven.”

  “Uh-huh. That’s three hundred and thirty-seven million lira every year to imprison them. If they stay in high security classification for ten years, that’s three-point-three-seven billion lira. Any longer than that and the cost gets even higher. How much rebuilding could you do with all that money if you didn’t have to spend it on incarcerating them?”

  “Quite a lot,” Sirhan admitted grudgingly.

  “Yes, Sir. There’s another thing.” He took from his pocket the coordinates and instructions Bairam had written down to give to Turgay. “I took these off the rebel leader after I killed him. I know where they were going. It’s a hardscrabble colony planet that was settled a couple of decades ago – so hardscrabble they’re offering bounties to agents who bring them immigrants, because they can’t get enough people to come voluntarily. Bairam was planning to claim the bounty for his rebels, although whether he’d have kept it for himself or distributed it among them I don’t know. The place has precio
us few amenities and not much of an economy – at least, not yet. The rebels will face years of hard work building new lives from the ground up. In many ways, it’ll be like being in prison at hard labor. I don’t think that’s escaping punishment, Sir – I think it’s just a different form of it.”

  “Perhaps…” The Governor’s voice was uncertain now.

  “There’s another thing, Sir. How many of the prisoners on Eskishi took part in the rebellion?”

  “Two thousand or so. Most of them died during the fighting.”

  “With only three hundred and thirty-seven survivors, Sir, I’d say most of the guilty ones – well over eighty per cent – have already suffered the death penalty. How many prisoners didn’t take part?”

  “Oh, at least ten times that many. I don’t know the numbers offhand.”

  “OK, Sir. If you keep the rebels here, you’re constantly going to worry that they may be trying to suborn other prisoners. They might even try to start another revolt when the time is right. By letting them go, you’ll get rid of your biggest security headache.”

  “And what if the other prisoners learn that the rebels got away with it? They’re sure to see it like that. It’ll undermine discipline in every prison we’ve got left!”

  Steve grinned tiredly. “That’s easy, Sir. Let it be known that the rebel survivors were put aboard a spaceship that ‘disappeared’. That’s the truth, after all; the spaceship will indeed ‘disappear’ from the Eskishi system when it makes its first hyper-jump. However, you can imply to the other prisoners that its ‘disappearance’ was something catastrophic, something deliberate. You don’t have to lie or be specific; just hint. They’ll get the unspoken message, Sir: rebellion leads to the harshest punishment there is. No-one survives it.”

  Commodore Wu had listened with a growing twinkle in his eye. He observed, “Governor, I think Senior Lieutenant Maxwell has covered most of the bases.”

  “Yes, he has.” Sirhan was clearly thinking hard. “If I decide to go along with your suggestions, what do I do about the ship? When it’s returned to its owners on Karabak, it’ll bring shipments here from time to time in the course of normal business. That’ll give the lie to its having ‘disappeared’, as you put it.”

  “Why not make it truly disappear, Sir? Why not give it to the Qianjin spacers as a reward?”

  “What?” There was outrage in the Governor’s voice. “It’s privately owned! We don’t own it – we chartered it! I can’t do that!”

  “What’s its value, Sir?”

  Sirhan looked nonplussed for a moment. “About half a billion lira, I suppose.”

  “That’s less than two years’ high security prison costs for the rebels if you keep them, Sir – a bargain, if you ask me. Furthermore, giving it to the Qianjin prisoners will help to solve another very big problem you’ve got coming at you. In fact, it’s potentially more serious than the rebel issue.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “All those spacers are members of the Dragon Tong, Sir.”

  “The Dragon Tong?” The Governor clearly recognized the name. Alarm was in his voice. “How do you know? Why wasn’t I informed before they arrived?”

  “I probably know them better than any of your prison staff, Sir, because I treated them like human beings from the beginning. They’ve talked openly with me. I suspect they didn’t want their Tong membership known, but I think you understand the implications.”

  “Of course I do! The Dragons are the worst interplanetary crime organization in the settled galaxy!”

  “Yes, Sir. This group claims to have been falsely convicted on Sulawasa. They haven’t blamed Eskishi or Karabak for that, but I understand Sulawasa’s foreign trade and orbital industry have taken and are still taking a massive hit since then. Don’t take my word for it, Sir; please check that for yourself. I think the Qianjin chargé d’affaires might be able to provide more information if the question is discreetly framed.”

  Sirhan rolled his eyes. “You mean I’ve got a Dragon Tong diplomat to deal with too?” he asked, his tone almost despairing.

  “Yes, Sir; and now the Tong have a bone to pick with you and Eskishi, and by extension with Karabak too. When its members were attacked by the rebels, the guards who were supposed to supervise and – if necessary – protect them ran away. As a result, up to a third of the Qianjin prisoners were killed or wounded before they could drive off the rebels. Eskishi failed in its duty of care towards them, Sir. They haven’t forgiven or forgotten that. There will be a reckoning unless you make peace with them. That’s where the spaceship comes in, Sir.”

  “You mean it’s a bribe?”

  “That may not be a very diplomatic way of putting it, Sir. You might do better to call it a reward for services rendered; but yes, in so many words it’ll be a bribe. The freighter is valuable enough that when they sell it, it’ll give each of them – and the families of their comrades who died – enough money to make a fresh start, and then some. Divided between them equally, each share will be the equivalent of a decade’s salary for a qualified spacer, even at Lancastrian Commonwealth wage rates. That may be enough to ease their resentment towards Eskishi and Karabak. With respect, Sir, you really, really don’t want the Dragon Tong mad at you. Ask Sulawasa. They’ll tell you what that means. They’re finding it out the hard way as we speak.”

  The Governor looked at him for a long moment. “So to put it diplomatically, the cost of the ship isn’t so much a bribe as an insurance premium against long-term disruption to Karabak’s interplanetary trade and space-based industries.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I think the Sultan will understand that. You’re making an awful lot of sense, Senior Lieutenant.” He glanced at Commodore Wu. “What do you think?”

  “I think the Senior Lieutenant is devious, cynical, and absolutely right.” Wu winked at Steve.

  “What would you do if you were in my shoes?”

  “I’d follow his advice, Governor.”

  “Hmm…” Sirhan turned back to Steve. “So you suggest I put all the Qianjin spacers aboard the freighter, have them drop the rebels at their destination, then take the freighter back home where they can sell it to the highest bidder?”

  “That’s about it, Sir. The only condition I’d add is that if they decide to retain the ship instead of selling it, they must rename it and keep it away from Karabak and its colonies. That’ll avoid any risk of it being seen in the Eskishi system again, or word getting back here about it.”

  The Governor scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I’ll sleep on it, but I’m at least half inclined to do as you suggest. How long d’you think it would take to get the rest of the Qianjin spacers aboard the freighter?”

  “No more than a day to load them, along with enough additional supplies to get them home.” Steve hesitated. “If you do that, Sir, may I please go aboard the freighter to say goodbye to them before they leave? I wouldn’t be alive without them – nor would the hostages. I’d appreciate the chance to thank them in person.” And to deliver a package that I really, really want to get off my back, he mentally added.

  “I have no problem with that. Commodore?”

  “I’m sure Commander Doibro will give you an opportunity to do that, Lieutenant,” Wu said, looking at her.

  Cybele’s Commanding Officer nodded. “Of course, Sir.”

  “Very well,” Sirhan said. “I’ll let you know my decision in the morning. Go and round up transport and get your spacers back to the depot. Please convey my condolences to the Marines there. Tell them I’ll drink a toast to Gunnery Sergeant Kinnear’s memory myself as soon as I’m able. I’ll also consider what sort of monument we can erect here to honor his memory. He deserves that.”

  Steve again thrust back the weariness that threatened to overwhelm him. “Thank you, Sir.”

  He saluted, then turned towards the arrivals hall on legs rubbery with exhaustion. The three watched him go.

  “That’s a remarkable young man,” Sirhan
said reflectively. “I do hope his career won’t be harmed by his dispute with Captain Davis, Commodore.”

  “Don’t worry, Governor. I’ll take care of the matter.”

  “I’m relieved to hear that, Sir,” Commander Doibro observed quietly. “When I read Captain Davis’ reprimand…”

  “Leave that to me, Commander,” Wu assured her. “I’ll start by having a little chat with the Eksalansari first thing tomorrow morning. After that, we’ll see.”

  July 12th 2850 GSC

  Steve was packing the last of his gear into a holdall when his comm unit buzzed.

  “Maxwell.”

  “Sir, this is Corporal Bundook at the main gate. A Marine assault shuttle’s just landed on the hardstand. A Spacer officer wearing Commodore’s uniform is heading for the gate.”

  “OK, Corporal, thank you. That’ll be Commodore Wu. Please escort him to the Administration building. I’ll meet him here.”

  “Aye aye, Sir.”

  Steve was waiting outside the main entrance as Wu came up. He saluted smartly. “Welcome to Carsamba Depot, Sir.”

  Wu returned the courtesy. “Thank you, Senior Lieutenant.” He looked around at the hustle and bustle. “Everyone’s hard at work, I see. I thought the Qianjin spacers were running this place in conjunction with a few Marines. What are all the Colonial Guards doing here?”

  “They’re taking over from the spacers, Sir. The Marines will stay here to co-ordinate things, with one of their officers in command, but the spacers will be heading up to the freighter in orbit. What you’re seeing now is the normal activity of the depot, doubled because of having to show our reliefs how we’ve been doing things.”

  “A busy morning for you, then. Do you have time to speak with me privately?”

  Steve couldn’t restrain a snort of amusement. When a Flag Officer wanted to talk, his wish was as good as a command. “My office is available, Sir. It’s nothing much, but…”

  “It’ll do. Lead the way.”

  “Aye aye, Sir.”

  Wu sniffed as he entered the office. “Is that coffee I smell?”