Dark Star Rising

by Bennett R. Coles

  “What was she carrying on this leg of her voyage?”

  “Linen and pottery.” He shrugged. “Nothing special.”

  “And nothing valuable.”

  “No, not really.”

  “So nothing Silverhawk would want to claim as prize money.”

  Liam considered. “The cargo would have had some value, but it would be bulky and would need to be sailed all the way to the Iron Swarm to connect with the buyer. Certainly not worth the trouble to steal.”

  “I have sources who tell me that Captain Silverhawk is in financial trouble. Apparently his gambling habits have begun to strain even his family’s reserves.”

  Liam remembered well his former captain’s enjoyment of games of chance—preferably for high stakes and against other wealthy lords.

  “It might explain why he foreclosed on the Brightlakes,” he suggested. “That’s messy, unpopular business, but under the Imperial laws of bursary a sizeable percentage of the assets seized is paid to the person who does it—an executioner’s fee, if you will.”

  “I’ve just never heard of one noble house doing it to another. That doesn’t sit right, either, and I’m looking into it. All I know so far is that the Imperial court did not sanction it.”

  “Do you think the Silverhawk family is suffering under debt?”

  “No, from what I understand quite the opposite—they’ve issued loans to many smaller houses. I think Captain Silverhawk has placed himself in financial difficulties all on his own.”

  “So he’s looking for easy prize money, and Red Sun didn’t offer it.”

  “But how did he know that?” Riverton leaned forward, her eyes burning into Liam’s. “He didn’t even board the vessel. And he hasn’t been to Windfall to search through shipping manifests, and any network of informants he might possibly have access to wouldn’t know this sort of mundane detail, nor would he have asked.”

  Liam began to understand her line of thinking. “Why would he go to all the trouble of hunting this ship down, if it had nothing of value to him?”

  “Or did he hunt it down because the ship, or her crew, were a liability to him?”

  “How could it be a liability? He wasn’t involved with the smuggling operations.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Liam was about to respond, but something in Riverton’s gaze made him swallow down his scoff. What was she suggesting?

  “Ma’am, Silverhawk may be a buffoon, but he’s a lord of the realm and a senior officer in the Navy.”

  “Yes, for twelve years,” she said quietly. “Twelve years of travel all around the Halo, often disappearing for days at a time when in port.”

  “Casinos and harlots,” Liam said dismissively, remembering too many times he’d had to send an escort party to collect their captain before sailing.

  “That’s the official story. And didn’t young Brown report that the first signs of Dark Star’s tentacles appeared about twelve years ago? Very localized at first, but then spreading.”

  Liam knew that they had to entertain all possibilities, but the idea of Silverhawk as a criminal mastermind . . .

  “Ma’am, with respect, he’s a complete toff.”

  “And so is Julian Stonebridge,” she retorted. “I believe it was my own XO who once explained to me that the simpering noble façade was an excellent way to hide in plain sight.”

  “Yes, but . . .” He grasped at the idea. “If Silverhawk is involved in this, why would he destroy his own ships?”

  “To spite me?” Riverton snapped in a sudden rush of anger. She waved her hand at the wealth of new intelligence spread out between them on the table. “Although if that was his intention he did a very poor job of it.”

  Silence descended in the cabin.

  “But that doesn’t answer my question,” Riverton said after a moment. “How did he know that Red Sun carried nothing of value, and even that we were chasing her? Have you sent a report of our findings to Admiral Grandview?”

  “No, ma’am. I only deliver that kind of information in person.”

  “Have you shared this with anyone outside the hull of this ship?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Has it been discussed when our two new guests are within earshot?”

  “Absolutely not, ma’am. And they’re both forbidden to send any kind of message from the ship. We’d know if they did.”

  “Who knew what cargo Red Sun was carrying?”

  Liam thought for a moment.

  “Anyone in the senior staff would have access to the info, but I don’t know specifically what each officer or senior sailor knows personally.”

  “But they all knew that Red Sun was our current target?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Our mission was clear to all of them.”

  “And any one of them is authorized to send signals, when required?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” This deep in space, Daring was free to transmit signals to specific planets without risking her identity. “There’s usually one every day or two, for professional reasons.”

  “Silverhawk knew something very specific, which would only be known to the senior staff in Daring. I want you to examine those signals that have been sent since we departed Windfall.” Riverton’s expression darkened. “We have a spy on board, feeding information to Silverhawk.”

  Liam sat back in his chair, processing his captain’s words. The idea was almost too awful to contemplate, but he couldn’t argue with her logic. His eyes swept over the new intel that only he and Riverton had so far discussed, and the kernel of an idea formed in his mind.

  “Yes, ma’am. And if the spy is covering their tracks very carefully, there’s another way to flush them out. If you can help me.”

  Daring turned Hubward, the strong headwinds slowing her progress toward the massive heart of the star cluster. Liam briefed the senior staff on the basics of what had been recovered from Red Sun, but purposefully left any conclusions vague. As the ship struggled against the countering breezes, Liam set his trap. He let it be known to the senior mess that Morassia was their next planet of interest, and then looked for opportunities to speak to each officer and senior hand privately.

  Being dishonest to Amelia was the hardest part. The steady trundle of shipboard life in deep space continued much as it always did, but one evening, sitting in the stores office with her, he saw his opening.

  “Any idea when we’ll make planetfall?” she asked, pushing back from her console and stretching. The long stretch turned into her arms wrapping around him.

  “You know the captain’s holding her cards close to her chest,” he said, smiling down at her as he pulled her close.

  “As always.” Amelia jerked her chin back toward her console. “But it’s hard for me to plan our stores consumption if I don’t know where we’re going.”

  “Well,” he said, making a subtle show of thinking hard, “we’re not going anywhere fast, because word is our quarry is still a long way from their destination. But . . .” He glanced at the closed stores door and leaned in.

  “A ship called Black Swan is headed to Morassia, and we intend to intercept her. She’s slow, though, and it will probably be a couple of weeks before she arrives.” He gave her a firm look. “But that’s just between us—don’t tell anyone.”

  “Not a word,” she said with a smile.

  Over the next few days, Liam managed to find opportunities to drop in different tidbits with the rest of the officers and chiefs.

  “Charlotte,” he said quietly to Brown next to the officer of the watch station, “keep this to yourself, but can you search navigation records for a ship named Golden Swan? It’s our next target.”

  “Stop whining,” he chided Swift as they sat alone at the wardroom table. “Don’t tell anyone, but we’re headed to intercept a pirate ship called White Swan—you can replenish sails after that.”

  “Get the boarding team fitted for hot weather gear,” he muttered to Sky outside the bosun’s locker. “Not a word to anyone b
ut looks like we’re heading planetside on Morassia to intercept the crew of a pirate ship called Silver Swan.”

  “Coxn,” he stopped Butcher as he came out of the brig, “look into the feasibility of upgrading our cell security.” He glanced around. “This is between you and me, but we’re looking to catch a pirate ship named Mother Swan.”

  “Doctor,” he said to Templegrey, leaning against her desk in a quiet sickbay, “please check what vaccines we have in stores. Keep it quiet, but a pirate ship named Soaring Swan is headed for Morassia, and we intend to catch her crew on the surface.”

  News from the Empire trickled in as the days drifted by. Sailors gossiped about the skirmish reported between the Navy and Sectoid forces, although both sides had pulled back. Official word was that a confrontation had erupted out of a misunderstanding, and no further action was planned. But all ships were to remain vigilant for Sectoid incursions into Human space.

  “What exactly is Human space?” Bella asked Liam one day in the wardroom as she cleared away the dishes after lunch.

  He glanced at Amelia seated near him, who leaned her chin on her fist and gave him an inquiring look.

  “It’s the area of the galaxy that the Emperor claims sovereignty over.”

  “What does that mean?” Bella cocked her head. “My translator struggled with those last few words.”

  “The Emperor is the ruler of certain planets and star systems,” Liam tried again, “and the space around those planets and star systems is called Human space. Because it belongs to the Human emperor.”

  “He rules the people on the planets, I understand,” Bella said. “But he doesn’t own the planets. Or the stars.”

  “Who does, then?”

  “No one. How can any person think to possess a star? And how can anyone own empty space?”

  She wasn’t picking a fight with him, he realized. She was genuinely trying to understand. He considered how Theropod society was structured. It was based on clan groups, he knew.

  “With your clan,” he said, “you own the land which you occupy, right?”

  “No. We exist there, but others existed there before we did, and still others will exist there after us. We are simply the occupants.”

  “What about your home world? The other races couldn’t claim it.”

  “Of course not. It is where we come from.”

  “So your race owns that world.”

  “No . . .” Bella paused. “We live there.”

  Amelia, Liam noticed, was failing in her effort not to smirk.

  “Well,” he said, “I guess Human space is where we as a species live. And we include the empty space around the stars and planets because of all our ships and stations. And then we claim a bit more just to keep distance between other races who we think might threaten us.”

  “You don’t think Theropods are a threat, then?”

  “Not really,” he admitted. “Your society is dispersed, and never unites to become a threat to us.”

  “As you do to us.”

  “Our unity comes from defense, Bella, not for attack. It’s the Sectoids who we really worry about. Our unity as a species is nothing compared to theirs.”

  “Yes, they are very strange. But not as aggressive as my people.”

  “Good thing your people aren’t united, then,” he said with a closed smile.

  She barked. “That would never happen.”

  “I suspect your people would be too busy fighting among themselves.”

  “Much as yours are.” Bella moved away.

  Amelia sat back, folding her arms triumphantly.

  “What’s with you?” he asked her.

  “Sometimes we need to hear things from a new perspective, my lord.”

  “We’re not perfect,” he admitted readily. “But our system works.”

  “More or less,” she conceded. But there was a dangerous gleam in her eye and he let the matter drop.

  The slow transit Hubward continued. Ships passed periodically in the distance, Daring adjusting course to leave a wide berth. It came as a surprise, then, when the officer of the watch reported a distant vessel transmitting an unknown type of beacon, and Riverton ordered Daring to close.

  It took more than a day to cross the vast gulf between ships, but Liam made his way up to the bridge during the afternoon watch of the second day of the approach. Swift had the bridge, and Riverton was seated in her command chair. Up ahead, through the canopy, the mystery ship was clearly visible. Liam stepped forward, staring.

  It was a perfect sphere, with four short masts extending in the cardinal directions, much like Daring’s, plus a fifth, much larger mast thrusting out in one direction. At first Liam guessed that the fifth mast was a forward spar like on Silverhawk’s Arrow, but as he watched he realized that this large mast extended from what passed as the stern of this vessel. The sails on the four smaller masts were triangular in shape, and to Liam’s eye looked too small to really catch the winds. But they were offset by the massive sheets that billowed from the stern mast.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” he marveled to Swift. “Is it a Sectoid ship?”

  “No,” Swift replied, his own expression lit up in wonder. “It’s an Aquan ship.”

  “An Aquan ship?” Liam stepped forward, staring in shock.

  “Do lift your jaw off the deck, XO,” Riverton chided. She turned in her chair. “I don’t want you gawking when we greet our guests.”

  “We’re meeting the Aquans?”

  “My diplomatic contacts arranged it. They have information for us.”

  He turned to her. “Have you dealt with Aquans before?”

  “No,” she admitted after a moment. “But I know that the hookup between ships will be using their airlock system, not ours.”

  “Shall I clear a path to the bridge for them?”

  “No, they can’t handle our ladders. You and I will meet them in the cargo loading area.” She glanced down at him. “It will be a quick meeting.”

  “Can I be part of the security detail?” Swift asked suddenly. “I’d love to get a look at their environment suits.”

  “No,” Riverton said firmly. “There will be no gawkers and no audience. Have the coxn positioned at the bulkhead aft of our position, and the assaulter at the bulkhead forward, both armed, with the doors closed behind them. Only the XO and I will interact with our guests.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Swift grumbled.

  It took another hour for the two ships to maneuver alongside each other, with masts retracting and thrusters countering the very different sailing characteristics of the vessels. But eventually Liam stood with Riverton in full dress uniform down in the large space of the cargo loading area. A pair of heavy chests lay at his feet. Butcher and Sky were both in armor, each standing by the closed doors leading fore and aft. They both wore a pistol on each hip, heavy cutlasses slung at their thighs.

  “How often does this happen?” Liam asked Riverton, adjusting his own saber.

  “Officially, almost never. The environmental demands are just too much. But out in the Halo it happens sometimes between merchants.”

  “I guess even fish like to make money.”

  “Captain,” Swift reported over the speaker, “the connection is holding and I’m reading stable air outside the hull. Permission to open the cargo door?”

  “Yes, please,” she called. “Open the cargo door.”

  The bulkhead they were facing was almost completely taken up by a single large door used often to transfer stores to and from Daring. As Julian Stonebridge, Liam had conducted many a business deal with this door open, but he knew this next encounter would be anything but routine.

  The door creaked as it started to rise. A rush of water poured through the crack, spilling across the deck. Liam tensed, but then saw clear air beyond as the door continued to climb. Beyond Daring’s hull there was now a low, wide tunnel becoming brighter as the cargo bay’s light cast its rays within. Four dark shapes became visible, cluster
ed together in the center of the tunnel. They jerked together to the left, then glided slowly forward. They were long and low, almost like coffins resting on six spindly legs. As they crossed the airlock threshold Liam realized that the legs rode on wheels, and that the leading ends of the coffins were bulbous and transparent. Forcing himself to remain still, he strained to catch his first glimpse of this mysterious alien species.

  The four Aquans advanced together, clustered tightly in a diamond formation. Then they suddenly split, two of the coffins coming alongside each other as the other two veered off several paces distant. The central two rolled up to Liam and Riverton, and all four halted as one.

  Looking through the transparent surface, he could see an Aquan in each coffin. They were deep green, their scales shining in the cargo bay light refracting through the water. From what he could see their bodies were long and thin, with fins fluttering as they hovered in their tiny bubbles of natural environment. Huge eyes stared up at him, and their massive mouths opened and shut almost absently, revealing lines of wicked teeth. Those teeth were replicated in a heavy set of metal jaws slung beneath the coffin, he noticed immediately. The Aquan equivalent of a sword.

  The only known water-based species to achieve space flight, the Aquans were a complete enigma to the Humans. Neither race could exist in the other’s environment, but that somehow hadn’t stopped wars being fought over resources on a variety of worlds. Trade was rare, but extremely lucrative for those few willing to offer the exotic wares of two species so different from each other.

  “Welcome,” Riverton said. “I am the captain of this vessel. This is my second.”

  There was a low-frequency rumble within the coffins, followed by another. Then the speaker on the coffin to the right sounded in smooth, translated words.

  “Greetings. I am the headmaster, and this is my deputy.”

  “Thank you for making this effort to speak to us. I hope that together we can eliminate this mutual threat.”

  The headmaster shifted in his watery environment, his eyes resting on the chests at Liam’s feet.

  Riverton noticed his gaze as well.

  “Please accept this gift from us. Pure salt.”