Debts of My Fathers (Father Chessman Saga Book 2)

by Dan Thompson

  Michael smiled. “Technically, I was pretending to be a lowly runner,” he said.

  “Yeah, faker,” she said, giving him a playful elbow to his ribs. “But you weren’t even an officer. How do you explain what happened in there?”

  He chuckled. “I know some folks, and hey, I’m a captain now.”

  “Okay then, Captain, how about you take me up to that notorious Guild Hall of yours.”

  “For dinner?”

  “No, let’s do lunch. I want to see you in there while your uniform is still at least a little fresh.”

  “Okay,” he said, diverting their path toward the lifts. “And why won’t it be so fresh later?”

  She giggled. “You’ll see.”

  “The defendant will rise,” intoned the bailiff.

  Maya stood. Her public defender stood beside her.

  The judge eyed her for a moment before turning to a small pad in his hands. “Maya Zoland, you have pleaded guilty to manslaughter, attempted murder, assault with a deadly weapon, conspiracy to commit kidnapping, impersonating an officer of the law, and discharge of an illegal slug-throwing weapon on board station. Do you understand these charges?”

  She nodded but said nothing.

  The judge scowled. “The defendant will answer the court’s questions.”

  She repressed a grin. “Yes, Your Honor, I understand the charges.”

  “I understand you have pleaded this down from first-degree murder. Is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “In return, you are expected to testify against a collection of your officers, notably Robert Bishop and Jana Lewis, your captain. Do you agree to these terms?”

  “Yes, I do.” She allowed the grin to show this time. She happened to know that at present, neither of those officers was in custody.

  The judge frowned, knowing the facts as well as Maya. “Therefore, following the sentencing recommendation of the prosecutor, I sentence you to twenty-seven years at a maximum security facility to be determined by the Confederacy Prison Administration. When these other trials are scheduled, you will supply testimony to the prosecutors’ satisfaction, or be assured, I will revise your sentence upward to the maximum I am allowed. Is that clear?”

  She smiled.

  “I asked the defendant a question, counsel. She will answer it, or I will nullify this agreement.”

  Her public defender turned to her, but she waved him off. “I understand, Your Honor. I understand very well.”

  It was all over but the ceremonies, but Maya knew the situation even better than the judge did. She had received her instructions from an aide in the public defender’s office three days before. “The trip is long. Never pass up a chance at the bathroom.” She was not sure where or when, but somewhere between here and that prison, she was going to take a crap all over that sentencing recommendation.

  Stefan found them in a corner booth. The youngster slid out and let Stefan take the inner seat. He could no longer see the entrance from that seat, but by the same token, he could not be seen by most of the restaurant.

  “I’m Perry Kent,” said the man in the opposite corner.

  Stefan nodded. “Stefan Carrillo. I expect the Lady has briefed you on me. I’ll save the introduction of my alter ego for when you come on board.”

  Perry tilted his head and stared at him. “You know, I think we may have met seven or eight years ago. Out on Nasar. Did you ever work for Oscar Farley?”

  That brought out a laugh. “Old Man Farley? Yeah, I did a few odd jobs for him.”

  Perry smiled. “Well, that’s a good enough endorsement for me.” He motioned to the man sitting next to him. “This is Nick Crow. He and I have the drive training, and the young man next to you is our navigator, Alex Franklin.”

  Stefan glanced around. “I take it you are the three businessmen who have requested to travel together.”

  Perry nodded. “Our cover is a computer security consulting team. I figure we can offer a little bonus for taking us all together.”

  “That should work. What about weapons?”

  “We have a shielded samples case. In addition to a bunch of crappy electronics, it’s loaded with four Jansky-28 force guns. They’re perfect for shipboard work, and as a precaution, I thumb-coded each of them to the four of us. So, what about the rest of the crew? What exactly are we dealing with?”

  Stefan reached into his jacket and pulled out several folded sheets of paper. “Take a look for yourselves,” he said, tossing them onto the table. “Six soft civilians with no military training, either Confederate or groundside.”

  Perry picked up Fletcher’s profile. “So this is the kid, huh? The Lady told us to watch out for him.”

  “Yeah, his dad taught him a thing or two, but this time we’ve got the element of surprise. Plus, once it goes down, I’ve got an idea for keeping him busy.”

  They passed the papers around with only a few comments. “A sitar player? Seriously?”

  Stefan merely shook his head. “If I get the chance, I’m going to smash that thing over his head.”

  Alex paused over Hector’s. “You know, we don’t have an environmental guy on the team. Is there any way we can turn this guy?”

  “No need,” Stefan replied. “I know enough about environmental to read the dials. If we wait until after the first day shift, we should be good. The kid makes Hector put a fresh skin on one of the scrubbers the first day out of port. He says he wants an extra margin before we get too far into open space.”

  Perry nodded. “I guess the old man did teach him a thing or two after all.”

  Nick had passed over them all without comment, but paused on the last. “Hey, this girl looks familiar.”

  “What, our little mouse?”

  “Mouse?”

  “Yeah, she’s a quiet little thing. You think you met her before?”

  “Not so much met as saw …” he trailed off trying to place the memory. “Oh, shit, she’s not a fighter, is she?”

  Stefan laughed. “A fighter? Are you kidding me? Pass her in the hallway and she practically flinches to get away from you.”

  Nick picked up the diagram of the Sophie’s layout. “What about the gym here? Does she do any kind of boxing or martial arts?”

  “Hell if I know,” Stefan replied with a sneer. “She has to have private time in the ship’s gym,” he continued in a mocking tone, “so that none of the big bad men see her in her workout clothes.” He shook his head. “What makes you ask?”

  “Well, do you guys ever check out the local fight scene?” Nick asked.

  “I have,” Perry replied. “Not here, but elsewhere.”

  “What do you mean?” Stefan asked. “The pro circuits?”

  “No,” Nick answered. “Strictly amateur stuff, usually warehouse districts after hours.”

  “Yeah, very few rules and damned vicious,” Perry added. “It’s a good place to recruit disposable muscle.”

  “Okay, so what … you saw her there?” Stefan asked. “You’re worried because she likes to watch the fights?”

  “No,” Nick replied. “She wasn’t watching. She was one of the fighters, and yeah, she was damned vicious.”

  “Couldn’t be,” Stefan replied. “If you went after this gal in a kitchen full of knives, she’d back into the cooler before she ever thought to pick up a weapon.”

  Nick frowned. “A good fighter isn’t necessarily all muscle and bluster.”

  Stefan shook his head again. “No, I’ve seen all kinds of toughs in my day, and Winner isn’t one of them.”

  “Winner?” Nick asked, holding up her dossier. “It says Winifred here.”

  Stefan rolled his eyes. “It’s her nickname. Apparently she doesn’t like to be called Winifred.”

  “Well, Winner is what they called the gal I saw last night.”

  “And was this mystery amazon victorious?”

  “Yeah,” Nick replied. “It was a close thing, but she ended up smearing the guy across the floor. He must
have been twice her size.”

  Stefan chuckled with disbelief. “So, did it ever occur to you that maybe they were simply declaring her the winner?”

  Nick hesitated. “I … maybe.” He looked at the picture again. “I don’t know. It’s hard to tell from a passport photo, and it’s not like there’s an official marquee of matches or anything. I’m only saying it could have been her.”

  Alex reached across the table and took Winner’s profile. “She doesn’t look very vicious to me, but hell, maybe we can all take her for a round or two if you know what I mean. If she really can put up a fight, we can put her down with one shot.”

  Stefan shook his head. “I’d rather keep everyone alive.”

  “Squeamish?” Perry asked.

  “No,” he replied. “Greedy. The Lady wants the boy for herself, but we get to sell the other survivors, and I think you know very well that young women always fetch a good price.” He grabbed the paper back from Alex. “Even those who think they can fight.”

  Chapter 20

  “Unfortunately, the quiet before the storm is just like any other quiet. Enjoy it when you’ve got it. Don’t let the storm ruin it.” -- Peter Schneider

  MICHAEL’S LINK CHIMED at nine fifteen. He rolled away from Lena and slapped at it. The chime stopped, but it was replaced by a voice. “Good morning, Captain.” Damn. It was Richard.

  “Yeah, hang on a sec,” he said, fumbling around to free himself of the tangled sheets. He finally managed to extract himself as Lena rolled over, taking much of the sheets with her. He padded barefoot and naked to the bathroom. When he closed the door behind him, he asked, “What is it?”

  “My apologies, Captain. Is this a bad time?”

  Michael chuckled. “It could have been worse. Can you be brief?”

  “Certainly, sir. Passengers and cargo are all lined up.”

  “Already?”

  “Yes, we had five passage requests based on our previously announced route to Arvin, but I explained yesterday that we only had room for three. This morning a trio offered a 10-percent bonus to be allowed to travel together. They’re coworkers of some kind and would rather not be split up.”

  “Good. Take them,” Michael said. In addition to the money, people traveling together did not put as much strain on the crew. He did not expect them to be as secluded as the newlyweds had been, but he would do almost anything to avoid the chatty salesman from that leg out of Taschin. “What about cargo?”

  “I have a full load for Arvin station, built up from three different shippers. There was a more lucrative offer for a shipment through to Tortisia, but you had said we might take a longer layover at Arvin, so I passed on that one. Was I correct to do so?”

  “Yeah,” he said. He did not know how long of a layover he really planned for Arvin, but at the very least, he wanted to visit the navy base there and talk to Commander Collins about Malcolm’s chess files as well as the extra modes tucked away in the Sophie’s navigation system. “That all sounds good. Did you leave anything for me?”

  “Only the signatures for the cargo. I sent Mr. Reyes off to the stationmaster’s office with all the paperwork. As long as you sign it all by the end of today, we should be on schedule for loading tomorrow.”

  “Good,” he said. Knowing Hector, he would drop the papers off immediately to leave him more time to check out more of the local cinema. “You’re on board?”

  “Yes, sir. I have the watch until twenty hundred, and then Mr. Merkel will take the night shift. Evidently, he has already had his fill of the local music scene or vice versa, so he has signaled that he might even be early.”

  “All right. I’ve got, um … personal business until early afternoon, but I’ll get the paperwork signed off afterwards. With luck, I’ll swing back by the ship around dinnertime. Send me a note if you want some takeout.”

  “Will do, sir, but you enjoy your time.”

  He heard Lena stirring out in the bedroom. “Believe me, Richard, I will.”

  Elsa stepped into the captain’s office with a wary eye, but there was no guard hidden around the corner. “You asked to see me, Captain Gallows?”

  He sat behind his desk and glared at her. “I see you decided to stay.”

  “And you decided to come back.”

  “I spoke to some of our mutual friends.”

  “And they verified my authority over you?”

  He shook his head. “They gave me enough information to convince me not to throw you out the airlock quite yet.”

  She smiled at him. “I’m betting they gave you a lot more than that.”

  “Perhaps I need more convincing than others.”

  “The fact that you are convinced is sufficient for now. The Sophie’s Grace should pull out in forty-six hours. Will you and the Grizzly be ready to leave by then?” She knew the Grizzly would be ready by then. It was more a question of whether Captain Gallows would.

  “Yes, the Grizzly will be ready.”

  She simply grinned at him, willing him to ask the question.

  Finally, he surrendered. “And what might our destination be?”

  “Sanhurst transfer station. You’re familiar with it?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Of course I am. Over the years, I’ve probably put more booty into Sanhurst than anyone else in the sector.”

  “Good,” she said. “Once the Sophie’s Grace is under my team’s control, they will rendezvous with us there.”

  “You’re not going to simply follow them?”

  “The Sophie is too fast for us, and I trust my team. They’ll make the rendezvous.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Very well, Captain Gallows. Was there anything else?”

  “Understand that while I am recognizing your authority here and now, that does not mean that I will always do so in the future.”

  She took a step forward and glared down at him. “You will recognize my authority until I release you from it.”

  He met her eyes, unfazed. “That is your opinion, but know that out in the deep, I will exercise my own judgment as to the scope and duration of that authority.” He sneered up at her. “Things can happen out in the deep. Do you understand that?”

  She gave a quiet snort and walked out without answering. Yes, things could indeed happen out in the deep. She understood that even better than Gallows.

  Michael and Lena approached the dock for the Hamilton James. A small crew of workers maneuvered another container into the cargo lock, leaving only two still stacked on the deck. Sitting at the small desk was the same woman who had been there before.

  “You don’t seem to get out much,” he said.

  “It seems the best to way to keep an eye on you,” she replied with a shrug. “So, Lena, did this scoundrel treat you right?”

  “Indeed he did. Michael, this is Aunt Suzie. Suzie, this is Michael Fletcher, captain of the Sophie’s Grace.”

  “She’s your aunt?”

  The older woman smiled. “I’m sort of everyone’s aunt. You’re the last one in, Lena. Cutting it a little close.”

  “I wanted a little extra time,” she said, turning to Michael. “I’m not particularly eager to say goodbye.”

  “Well, not goodbye,” Michael replied. “I would like to think it’s more of a see-you-later.”

  She nodded. “I’ll be on the lookout for the Sophie.”

  “And I’ll be … well, I guess I’ll just be on the lookout for you.”

  “I’ll write you when it gets settled. Hopefully I’ll have a pretty regular route.”

  “Until then …” he leaned in for a kiss.

  She looked up, lips parted.

  “Ahem.”

  They both looked over to see Aunt Suzie tapping her watch.

  “Suzie!” Lena growled.

  “All right, all right,” she replied. “I’ll wait inside, but in two minutes I’m coming back out with the captain.”

  They watched her climb the ramp and turn the corner.

  “Where
were we?” Lena asked.

  They made good use of their two minutes. There were no more words, and when it came time to part, they said their goodbyes with mere nods. She climbed the ramp, paused at the station’s airlock door, waved, and then she was gone.

  Michael stood there for another minute or two, savoring the feeling. Eventually, one of the cargo loaders looked at him. “Do you need something, sir?”

  He shook his head and walked away, playing bits of the last two days over in his head. He was not in any particular hurry, and eventually he found he had strolled three-quarters of the way around the ring.

  With a resigned sigh, he headed in to the central core and made his way to the administration office. He skipped the runners’ queue and went straight for the captains’ window.

  It was a middle-aged man who looked a little disappointed at being interrupted in his reading. “How may I help you?”

  “Captain Fletcher of the Sophie’s Grace,” he said. “My first officer tells me you have papers for me to sign.”

  “A moment, sir,” he said and stepped back into the main offices.

  Michael looked around. Runners came and went. Most of them were young, but they were still almost all older than he was. Not too long ago, he had been among them, running errands for his uncle. He felt different now. Certainly, much of it was the change in uniform, but that was not all of it. Standing here, waiting for the paperwork for his own ship, the reality of being a captain sank in. It was far from the glamour and rituals of the Captain’s Guild, but it was somehow more real, like dirt beneath fingernails.

  “I’ve got three forms for you. Captain?”

  Michael turned to see the man before him again, spreading papers in front of him, both electronically on the desk screen and in physical form. He thumbed the electronic ones and collected the paper ones. “Anything else?”

  “That one with the striped border, have it ready when the cargo foreman arrives with his crew. Other than that, you’re set.”

  Michael thanked him and made his way out past the runners, sticking close to the wall to keep the central lane clear for them. It was still early in the afternoon. He thought briefly of going back up to the Guild Hall in hopes of visiting with other captains, but he realized he was not up for it. More than anything, he wanted another shower and a fresh uniform, so he made his way back to the ship.