***
“Approaching at sixty thousand MCs per second,” said Sarah from the helm while adjusting her controls. “Burners at 5 percent and holding.”
The large red planet wasn’t yet in view through the windows, and a projected image hovered over the main display.
“That’s good, thank you,” said Calvin.
“How long are we going to be at Aleator?” asked Miles.
“Not a second longer than we have to.” Calvin turned to Sarah. “Contact the port authority. Let them know the package we discussed earlier has arrived.”
“Yes, sir.” She began speaking into her headset.
Shen flipped his chair around from the ops terminal. “Are you sure this is the best idea? I mean, if he could break free from our hold, then he’ll have no trouble giving the Aleator people the slip. And this kind of betrayal by you might enrage him. You know, provoke him into doing something deadly.”
“Duly noted, Shen,” said Calvin. Irritation pierced his voice, but he was more annoyed at himself than his officer. He hated breaking his word to anyone, even a Remorii, but there was a lot more at stake here than his honor. Unfortunately, by handing Tristan over to the port authority, he’d lose out on any valuable information the werewolf had withheld—although Calvin expected the lycan would have lied to them anyway.
“It’s just that a lot of people could get hurt, sir.”
“Yes, Shen, people could get hurt. Which is why we’re giving up the chance for more information to better ensure public safety. Even in this nest of crooks and cutthroats, there are still people who deserve better than a death at the claws of a lycan. And the last thing the galaxy needs is more werewolves, should our friend spread his poison. Aleator deserves to know what it’s inheriting. Then they’ll at least have a fighting chance of dealing with it.”
Even though Shen had questioned Calvin, it was the kind of thoughtfulness he liked from his officers. He needed them to keep him in check, and often their eyes were as good, or better, than his own.
“I think you’re doing the right thing,” said Summers from his side.
He looked over at her. “You do? Then maybe I’m doing the wrong thing after all,” he said with a slight smirk.
Her smile faded.
Sarah spoke up. “Now at sixty million kilometers and still no sentry ships. Just a third-rate freighter refit closing in on our position.”
“Project it,” said Calvin.
Shen acknowledged and, a moment later, a hovering 3-D model of a rebuilt freighter appeared, replacing the image of Aleator.
“That’s the sentry ship?” asked Miles.
Calvin laughed. “Welcome to Aleator. I take it some of you, aside from our secret jaunts into the DMZ, have never set foot outside of the Empire.”
“Aleator just looks like a bunch of outposts orbiting a planet,” said Shen. “What makes it so different?”
Miles’s reply was almost a shout. “It’s anything goes! No laws. You can do whatever you want so long as you follow one rule—don’t piss off the Roscos!”
“I’ve spent some time across the Polarian border a few years back, but even there everything was patrolled and civilized,” said Summers.
“You’d especially hate this place,” said Calvin, and he turned back to Sarah. “Open up a channel to the sentry ship and set up rendezvous coordinates. Let the captain know we’re bringing the werewolf aboard his ship and that none of his personnel will be allowed to step even one inch onto the Nighthawk once we dock.”
“Can do.”
Calvin tapped the intercom. “Okay, Major, we’ll be docking shortly. Get the package ready to go, and make sure your men don’t leave him until the Aleator crew has him well in hand.”
“You got it, and, frankly, I’ll be glad to be rid of him.”
“You and me both.” He let go of the comm just as Sarah waved for his attention.
“Slowing to match approach vector and docking in … just over two minutes.”
As the ship docked and the seconds ticked away, Calvin tried to mask his anxiety. A part of him wanted to see to the werewolf’s eviction personally, but this kind of operation was the major’s purview, and, if the werewolf did break free somehow and saw Calvin there … things could get ugly. He waited on the bridge, letting the slow minutes disappear in silence until the major’s voice came back over the intercom.
“It’s done. The werewolf is in Aleator custody now, and all hands have safely returned.”
“I trust you had no problems,” said Calvin.
“None, he didn’t even try to fight back. In fact, he claimed he knew this was going to happen.”
Calvin chuckled nervously. “I bet he did. Very well, Major, good work.” He turned off the comm.
“That was too easy, you know.… I’m kind of disappointed, in a weird way,” said Miles.
Calvin looked at him. “That’s usually a good thing.”
“The uh … sentry ship has disengaged and is pulling away,” said Sarah.
“Very good, Sarah. Set course for Aleator One. And, Shen, project the image.”
The primary station appeared in orbit around the planet. Calvin would have described it as more of a conglomerate of containers and retired spaceships than any kind of platform. But apparently it did the job, despite looking like garbage.
“Wow, what a piece of sh—”
“Miles,” Calvin interrupted him. “Come with me. We’re going to visit Aleator One, so it’s time to suit up.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. Go get your mission clothes from the quartermaster, and meet me on deck five. The rest of you will be staying aboard. The minute Miles and I disembark, have the Nighthawk withdraw from the station and engage the stealth system. Then sweep the sector for even the slightest trace of the Harbinger but do not approach Aleator One again until I give you the order. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” said Summers.
“Good. And, Shen, tap into the local databases and mine whatever information you can. I want to know if the Harbinger ever arrived, if it docked, if it took on or let off any passengers. I want to know everything. And flag every name on the Harbinger’s manifest, see if anyone had any history here—coordinate your efforts with the deck two analysts as needed.”
“On it,” said Shen.
“Excellent. Summers, you have the deck.”
The Phoenix Conspiracy Page 21
