Starship Fairfax: Books 1-3 Omnibus - The Kuiper Chronicles: The Lunar Gambit, The Hidden Prophet, The Neptune Contingency

by Benjamin Douglas

  “Negative.” That sealed the deal.

  “Ceres it is. Set in our course and take us to Ceres, please.”

  “Order confirmed.”

  Ada leaned back in the chair, closed her eyes, and did her best not to dream about breakfast.

  ---

  “Ada, wake up.” She was jostled violently forward, and had to brace herself against the console, her arms still heavy with sleep. Bone Crusher had a hand on her shoulder. He probably thought he was being gentle.

  “Hiya, Crush.” She wiped her eyes and stretched. “What did I miss?”

  “Just a lot of empty space,” Joyce said from the co-pilot seat. “Until this.” She pointed directly forward, out the short viewport that spanned the front of the ship at eye-level. Ada peered through the port and saw chunks of twisted metal and other assorted space garbage flying about. She glanced down at her console. The stuff seemed to have all come from a common origin point, and probably not too long ago. A tidy little debris field in the middle of space.

  “Whoa!”

  Ada glanced up at Joyce, then looked out the port again and saw a large piece of what used to be a ship hull slowly spinning toward them.

  “Moses, would you kindly take us around, rather than through, the debris field in front of us?”

  Beep. “Yes, Ada. Order confirmed.” The ship tipped to the left as Moses guided them in a semi-roll off to the side.

  “And while you’re at it, run a scan, see if you can pick up an ID or any identifiable materials.”

  “You mean like that?” Joyce was pointing at the hull-piece they had just avoided as it drifted off to their right. An insignia was blazoned on the side, a bit charred around the edges now, but legible. Ada would have recognized the carrion crow anywhere. She cursed under her breath.

  “One of Carmen’s. Moses, scan for survivors, too.”

  Joyce seemed skeptical of that order, but she didn’t say anything.

  “Scans complete. No survivors. No functional ship ID.”

  “Thanks, Moses.” She sighed, watching as the piece with the carrion crow drifted out of sight. “Think it was related to what happened on the station?”

  Joyce shrugged. “Won’t say she didn’t have it coming, if it was. Can’t say I much like the idea of whole crews just dying out here in the void, either, though.”

  “No.” Ada fiddled with her console. Time had passed as she’d slept, and Ceres was less than an hour away. “So.” She turned around to face Joyce and Bone Crusher. “What do we have in the way of weapons?”

  —

  They were only minutes away from the planetoid when Moses announced they were receiving a wide broadcast communication from the orbiting station. Ada told him to play it for them.

  “… a state of emergency and has been quarantined; repeat, Ceres surface is in a state of emergency and has been quarantined. All approaching ships, please alter course. No one will be allowed into the tubes at this time. Please contact Empire Station Geta-4 for further information. Ceres surface is in a state of emergency and has been quarantined; repeat, Ceres surface…”

  “Shut it off, Moses.” The transmission ended. Ada rubbed her chin.

  “What’s going on out here?” Joyce said. “A girl spends a little time on her back, and when she gets up, the whole system’s falling apart.”

  Bone Crusher guffawed.

  “Geta-4 is that station in orbit?” Ada asked.

  “Confirmed,” Moses said. “Geta-4 is the Empire’s presence in the inner belt.”

  Ada pursed her lips. She didn’t much like the idea of cozying up to the Empire. On the other hand, they had no reason to know she was a Colonial, or what her parentage was. On the other other hand, she’d been running with pirates, and was now flying a vessel stolen from pirates, with two other pirates. But the only other settlements in the area, as far as she knew, were private habs, and she had no guarantee they’d be able to land at any of those. If they did, it would mean theft and pillage to pick up supplies and to power up the ship for more flight. If they docked at the station, would they be able to at least have a meal and juice up the engine while staying under the radar?

  Her stomach rumbled loudly.

  “Me too,” Joyce said. “So. Geta-4?”

  “Geta-4. Moses, please bring us in line with the station and ask for permission to dock. Someplace inconspicuous, if you can arrange it.”

  “Order confirmed.”

  Ada’s stomach continued to roil, but she wasn’t sure if it was the hunger or the prospect of walking willingly into Geta 4.

  Chapter 9

  It wasn’t all bad.

  True, Ceres was the last place they wanted to go back to, but once they picked up their cargo, they were to deliver it to a station orbiting Mars. Really, Lucas thought, he couldn’t have planned this better if he’d tried. They would be flying directly to their desired destination, with only a couple of days’ delay, which bought them the ability to fly without being stopped and questioned every time an Empire affiliate came by, or being crippled and robbed willy-nilly by any of the numerous pirate outfits in the inner system.

  After a smooth flight, they came into space around Ceres, and found a scene slightly more macabre than the one they’d left a day and a half ago. Debris littered the orbit, and a few chunks of decimated hulls could be seen.

  Caspar clucked her tongue, gazing up at the viewscreen. “Think this has anything to do with the coup in Rust?”

  “Seems awfully coincidental if it doesn’t.” Lucas opened a comm. “Darren, please come to the bridge.”

  “I’m here.” Lucas started a little, then caught his breath. Darren peeled himself away from his perpetual wall-post in the back.

  “Great. You have any input on what we’re seeing here?” He gestured at the screen.

  “No.”

  Caspar scoffed.

  “You’re a wealth of useful information.” Lucas gestured that he was done with him. “Thanks.”

  Mulligan announced from the comm station that she was picking up a wide broadcast, and played it for the bridge. Ceres was under quarantine. No one was allowed into the tubes. Questions were to be directed to the Geta-4 station in orbit.

  “Happily, we don’t need to go into the tubes this time.” Lucas put the brief back up on the screen. “Our contact is, in fact, on Geta-4. I guess it’s time to see how good a job Cyclops and his boys did of wiping our ID.”

  The crew noticeably stiffened. Lucas didn’t blame them. If Empire personnel on Geta-4 ascertained that Fairfax was a Kuiper Fleet military ship, it didn’t just mean the crew was in trouble. It might be the incident to spark an all-out war. Lucas swallowed against the dry lump forming in his throat, and told himself to forget about that for the present and focus on the business at hand. Be a good pirate.

  They came closer. A number of ships were orbiting near the station. Lucas wondered just what had happened here since they’d left. Some appeared to be derelict hulls, while others were very much operational. He glanced at a scan on his console, and the lump grew larger. Of the operating ships in orbit, there were three stag-class and one heavy battleship, all Earth Empire Fleet.

  “Sir.” Mulligan spun to face him. “I’m picking up a livefeed request from the battleship Sovereign. Accept?”

  “Yes.” Lucas’ voice came out a dry rasp, and he cleared his throat. “Onscreen.”

  Lucas had his first glimpse of an Empire bridge. It was familiar enough, insomuch as military means military. Clean, orderly, functional, with just enough of a sense of ceremony to put all the grunts in place and keep them there. The captain was standing, scrolling through holoscreens over a device held by an aide. His chair was ringed by command stations, his crew all focused on their consoles. Backs straight, eyes attentive, voices low. For a moment, Lucas pined for the cool, calm command he’d enjoyed under the late Captain Harris, back before all this madness began. He didn’t belong on a souped-up starship dressed to look like a pirate freighter, hauling car
go for some secret upstart crime syndicate. He belonged over there, on that clean, ordered bridge.

  “Freighter, we see you’re here for Rome Inc.” The captain spoke without looking up. Lucas’ own back straightened, and he remembered why they were here. There was a job to do.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The captain glanced up for a fraction of a second, an eyebrow quirked. That sounded too military, Lucas decided. “That’s right,” he added. “What’s it to you?” He cringed. Too far?

  The captain handed the device off to the aid and sat in the chair, now facing the screen. “What’s it to me is to make sure we have an understanding here, kid. You are not allowed access to the surface at this time. I don’t care who you’re running freight for. Understood?”

  “Understood. Station’s still open for business though, right?”

  The captain sneered. “Yes, she’s open. Now get out of my face.” The screen went back to exterior cam view, and the crew breathed a collective sigh of relief.

  “Ok,” Lucas muttered. “That went well.”

  The bridge doors hissed open, and Private Tompkins entered.

  “Private.” Lucas nodded at him. “Adams doesn’t need you right now?”

  Tompkins sniffed and sat lazily at one of the open consoles. Lucas sighed inwardly, wondering if it was any use bothering to whip his young crew into some semblance of decorum. “There isn’t room down there for him to turn around, with all the new mods, and he can’t hear himself think with Officer Jan all excited about being an expert now. I hardly think I’m missed. Anyway, what’s going on up here?”

  Lucas gave him his best attempt at a stern, captain-esque look. “What’s going on up here, Sir.”

  “Oh, you can just call me Tompkins, Sir. No need to be formal.”

  This time the sigh was audible.

  “Captain, Geta-4 is in range,” Mulligan said.

  Lucas pulled up the brief once more, scanning for the precise location. “Good. Put in a request to dock on sublevel nine, Private.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Geta-4 was a mid-sized station by Earth Empire standards, but it looked enormous in its orbit around the planetoid Ceres. It must have been just small enough to be held in place by Ceres’ gravity. It was shaped something like an enormous spinning top, with the widest point at its middle, and narrowing levels extending both up and down away from it. Most of the large docks were on the sublevels.

  “Jeffrey, are you awake?” Lucas asked.

  Beep. “I do not require sleep. I’m surprised you didn’t know that, Lucas.”

  Ah, he’s learned my name. Lovely.

  “For the duration of this mission, you will address me as…” He thought for a moment. “Captain Jack.” Caspar raised her eyebrows at him, and he shrugged. They needed cover names.

  “I will?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Well, alright then. Since you said the magic word.”

  “Very good. Thank you, Jeffrey. I’d like you to run a scan of sublevel nine of the Geta-4 station, specifically the area around whichever dock they direct us to. I want to know how many people are waiting for us, how they are armed, the nature of the station’s docking clamps, and whether or not you can execute an override on them.”

  “You don’t ask for much, Jack.”

  “Captain Jack. Can you do all that?”

  “I suppose I could. Think that I should?”

  “Yes, please do so.”

  He shared an exasperated look with Caspar, though she seemed to be suppressing a grin. That’s fine, he thought. Just wait until you have to deal with an AI between you and your guns.

  “Livefeed from Geta-4, Captain.”

  “On-screen.”

  The message was audio only, the screen going blank. “Freighter, please come to dock four in subsection BB, sublevel nine. Be prepared to present credentials.” The sound zapped off.

  “Credentials?” Lucas raised an eyebrow. He pulled up the brief one more time, but didn’t see anything about credentials. “Jeffrey, do you know anything about this?”

  “I might.”

  “Would you care, oh magnificent computer, to elucidate us?”

  “Well, now you’re speaking a language I understand, Captain Jack. Certainly. You will note from your brief that you have been instructed to carry Rome Inc. multi-tool devices on your person at all times. Which, I might add, I notice you have so far neglected to do. Shame shame, Sir.”

  Lucas lifted his arms, looking around for said multi-tool.

  “There, Captain.” Caspar pointed at the tiny compartment that used to house Sock’s malfunctioning dispensary unity beside his chair. She had already retrieved hers. He reached inside and pulled out a little oblong, black rectangle, and snapped it to life, then clasped it to his belt.

  “Alright, Jeffrey,” he said. “I am so armed, and the rest of my crew are following suit.”

  “Very good, Sir. These devices will provide all necessary credentials for the mission. They will also replicate station ID badges if need be, and have all the functionality of your everyday top-of-the-line multi-tool—micro PC, cutting device, keycard generator. Oh. And, in the event you or any of your crew decide to take up arms against a Rome Inc. employee, the device will inject a deadly agent into your bloodstream, and you will die within seconds.”

  Lucas gulped. “Handy. Is that last bit really necessary?”

  “Hopefully not, Sir. But that depends entirely on you.”

  Randall guided them in toward Geta-4, until finally Jeffrey took control to dock them. Lucas looked around at his bridge crew.

  “Alright. Caspar, Darren, Mulligan, with me. Tompkins?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Hmm Sir. Keep an eye on the ship, will you?”

  “Aye, Sir.”

  “Into the lion’s den,” he muttered beneath his breath.

  Chapter 10

  “I have a friend on level two,” Bone Crusher rumbled.

  Ada spun in her chair. “Really? What kind of friend, Crush?”

  He gave a sloppy grin. “Aww, ya know. The pretty kind. Only kind worth havin’. Anyhow, I say we head for level two. Stop in to see her.”

  Joyce bristled visibly. Ada shot her a look that said ‘don’t worry.’ “Sounds like pretty good cover to me. Moses, can you ask for a livefeed with the station?”

  “Yes, Ada. Requesting feed now.”

  They got an audio-only feed and asked to be docked on level two. Bone Crusher gave his friend’s name—Lady Umbrador—and they were given a dock and a code to get in without passing through customs.

  “Very nice,” Ada muttered. “Too bad we don’t have anything with us worth selling—could have made a haul.”

  They pulled into a small hangar bay, and Moses landed the ship. Ada patted the wall of the cockpit. “I think I could get used to this old bird.”

  “Suit yourself.” Joyce unstrapped and headed toward the back of the ship. “I just want to find civilization again.”

  As promised, they waltzed into the stations, no customs or security check. At the first public console available, Bone Crusher stopped to make a call. Ada and Joyce stood a few feet away to give him a little privacy, but they couldn’t help but sneak a peek at the mysterious “friend.” She appeared smiling on the screen, a frazzle of blue hair all around her face, which was exquisitely made up, complete with an Orion’s Belt of beauty marks arcing up one cheek. She also appeared to be about twenty years Crush’s senior.

  “Crush, darling!”

  “Dianne, how are ya?”

  “Better, now that you’re here.” She squinted seductively. Ada quirked her mouth to the side. She wasn’t sure she knew how to squint seductively. “Busy though at the moment, darling. Lots happening in Ceres space today, and I’ve got some business to oversee. Are you here for long? Can you come and see me… tonight?”

  Joyce pinched her lips together and looked away, arms folded.

  “Anything for you, Dianne. Mind if we dawdle
on your floor until then?”

  “No, of course not, darling! Make yourselves at home. Charge anything you need to my expense account. I’ll tell my bursar to expect it, so there are no surprises. Come see me after dinner, will you? We’ll have cocktails, and… socialize.” She ran the tip of her tongue over her top teeth, then blew him a kiss. Bone Crusher guffawed, gave a very obvious wink, and said he’d see her then. The feed ended.

  “That’s an awfully convenient friendship you have, Crush.” Ada was smiling for the first time all day, realizing they’d just been invited to eat at Crush’s wealthy patron’s expense.

  “Idn’t it, though? C’mon. I’ll show ya around. A day with the girls!” He grinned and trotted off. Ada and Joyce exchanged dubious looks, then followed.

  Crush proved to be an excellent tour guide for Dianne’s level of Geta-4. First, they went to a tailor, where they all had measurements taken for new all-purpose suits. On their way out, they picked up new undergarments. Then they went to a spa, where Ada declined Crush’s invitation to bathe with him, and took a private tub, instead. She almost cried real tears as she eased her body into the hot water, so long had it been since she’d enjoyed the luxury. Next, clean and dry, they found the newly tailored suits waiting for them, and dressed, discarding their soiled old clothes. Ada made sure to keep the multi-tool, which was nearly done recharging from the station’s wireless power.

  Clean and clothed, they feasted. A buffet-style food court allowed them to each eat as they chose, and Ada found herself completely unable to exert any self-control, eating until she was nearly sick.

  “It’s too bad they don’t have carry-cases,” she mumbled, rubbing her stomach. “We could really stand to stock the ship.”

  “Oh, there’s a place for that!” Crush said.

  Joyce raised an eyebrow. “On whose dime?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t see why it can’t be Dianne’s. She gave us permission. Trust me, that woman won’t miss a few thousand credits going missing. Besides, what’s the use in calling yourself a pirate if you can’t even swindle a wealthy widow out of a few breadcrumbs?” He grinned.