by Daniel Gibbs
"It's not our problem anyway," Piper said.
Felix rolled his eyes. "See, that's the problem I have with this whole thing." He looked at each member of the crew in sequence. "The League's come to take over Sagittarius. Not just the Coalition. All of us. They've said it since the day they hit Canaan! You neutrals still act like it's not your problem."
"Because we've got our own problems," Tia pointed out testily. "We've got pirates and rogue megacorps screwing us over. Although I guess you don't mind the last, do you?"
Felix glared at her.
Henry drew in a breath to intervene, not wanting to put up with another shouting match between his second-in-command and his best friend, given their differing politics. He was saved from a necessary intervention by the PA system trilling. "Engineering here." The voice was Samina Khan's, their new Engineer's Mate. "Engineer Hartzog and Ms. Tama'si are getting the reactors online. We have full power to the plasma drives."
"Finally," Henry breathed. He nodded to Piper and their helmswoman, dark-haired Cera McGinty from New Connaught. "Signal Traffic Control and tell them we're burning in now. Follow their course exactly."
They nodded in understanding. "The way things sound, the entire system's on a hair-trigger," Piper said. "We won't give them any reason to worry about us." That assurance given, the two departed the galley, the magboots of their softsuits thunk-thunk-thunking down the central passageway.
The distraction deflated the growing tension between Felix and Tia. With the post-crisis adrenaline crash coming down on everyone, the energy seeped from the room. "Everyone, be ready for atmospheric entry. Other than that, you're free to do what you want," Henry said, at which point he left the room.
Henry's office was only halfway cleaned up from the zero-G and high-G effects when the knock came on his door. He looked up and expected Tia or Felix, come to vent about the other's behavior and political views. "Come in," he said wearily, uncertain of whether he had the patience to put up with it.
To his surprise and relief, his guest was Samina. She was the youngest crew he'd ever had aboard, an eighteen-year-old girl.
Indeed, it was clear Samina hadn't come through the crisis unscathed. While her role had been crucial — without her, they wouldn't have escaped — it'd also been a terrifying experience. He looked into her brown eyes and the pale look of her face and knew immediately what she was dealing with. "You were too busy working to feel it earlier," he said without prompting. "The adrenaline crash. It always hits when the danger's over, and you're already letting yourself think about it. About what could've gone wrong."
She took a ragged breath and nodded.
"If your uncle were here, or Chief Khánh, what would they do?" Henry asked gently.
"Let me hug them.”
Henry chuckled to himself. His first impulse was to dismiss the idea. It was silly. It was unprofessional. Samina was becoming an adult and needed to grow up.
Once those thoughts passed, he imagined things from the point of view of a teenage girl who'd just left her last living family member and her entire emotional support network, and already forced from her homeworld by the League as a child who lost her parents and most of her family to a pirate attack. With a deep sigh, Henry gently spread his arms.
Samina embraced him with such speed and ferocity, he briefly wondered if she'd crack a rib. She sniffled, trying and failing to hold back tears. Henry patted her on the head and let her keep the hug for as long as she needed.
She was still hugging when she said, "I'm s-sorry, Captain. I know I-I'm supposed to b-be… mature. Professional."
"It's fine, kid," Henry said. "The hug's a first, but you wouldn't be the first kid I had to help through their first crash."
"Hrm?"
"Back when I was in the CDF," he continued. "Once you hit captain, you get departmental responsibilities in some commands. I had a couple of deployments when I had to help the new recruits through things. First time's always the hardest."
"You get used to it?" she asked.
"A bit. Doesn't go away entirely in most people. In a few, yeah, but they're special cases." And not always the best. He chuckled. "My door's always open if you need to talk. Just don't get used to the hugs."
Samina let go of him, looking somewhat embarrassed now, even if she was enjoying being comforted through the experience. "I won't, sir, I promise," she assured him. "I hope I didn't—"
"You saved the ship, Samina," Henry said with a tone of insistence. "You don't have to apologize for anything."
She nodded quietly. "Does this happen often?"
"No. But it can happen," he answered. "Part of being a spacer, kid. There's always people out there looking to take what's yours, for whatever reason. And you've gotta fight 'em. For yourself, your self-respect, and others."
Samina nodded again, accepting the wisdom. "Uncle Ali said that to me before. That a lot of spacers have to be willing to fight."
"Wise man. Be ready to fight and hope it doesn't come to it."
"Inshallah, yes."
Henry smiled and nodded at the sentiment. He gestured toward the stern. "Now, why don't you go check in with Doctor Kiderlein? You said you were hurt during the high-G burn. Oskar can make sure you're alright."
"I will, Captain. Thank you again." Samina gave him a final smile before heading off.
Henry watched her go and thought back to all the other young people he'd had to help through danger. Frightened men and women, some as young as eighteen, sent off to fight and die for the Coalition. To save their worlds from League occupation and oppression. How they dealt with that terrible first experience with combat and the ones that didn't survive.
It made him feel guilty. All of his instincts told him the League was up to something nasty, and they might even pull it off.
But how could he stop it? He was just one independent trader captain with a few contacts. They were the League of Sol, the largest interstellar state in existence. Trillions of human beings lived under the sun-and-fist. They had a fleet that was probably three, even four times the size of the Terran Coalition, which had enjoyed the largest spacefleet in the entire known Sagittarius Arm since the last of the Saurian Wars. How could he and his small ship stand up to that?
"It's not my place," he muttered to himself bitterly. "Not my job. Not anymore." Then he went back to work.
The quiet trilling of the bio-sensors of her hospital bed was the only sound that came to Paulina Ascaro's attention as she quietly read her digital reader. Her husband Martzel and son Xabier were absent for the moment, getting a much-needed meal from the cafeteria of the National Hospital, while Ascaro took the time to catch up on events while she'd been incapacitated.
She knew she should be grateful. She was one of the few lucky ones. She'd only lost her left hand to the bombs, while four out of five of her colleagues in the Assembly lost their lives, as had a multitude of staffers, gallery observers, and other personnel of the Parliament Building.
The list was sobering. Friends and foes, allies and enemies; they were all there among the slain. For years, she'd served with these people. Debating, arguing, making points of order, and issuing parliamentary motions, enduring the tedium of long-winded peers—which many considered her to be in some respects. Now they were gone, and she might yet be joining them.
There was still no word about which Cabinet ministers, if any, survived the attack. A few other surviving colleagues who were awake messaged to check on her, and she'd sent plenty of similar messages, but it was clear to all that the security services were intentionally hiding news about survivors in the Cabinet. The claim was that until the investigation into the bombing was finished, this was necessary to prevent further attacks. It also meant the security services had the perfect excuse to do what they wished.
Such as, say, arrest democratic politicians they regarded as "enemies of the state," using the State of Siege regulations as justification. Given her current condition, Ascaro would be pathetically easy for them to tak
e, especially with two of their agents outside her hospital door.
She had no illusions as to what that would entail. Torture was probable. She’d probably be beaten. The security services had no love for democrats that sought to repeal the Estado Novo constitutional "reforms" that gave them their power. Most of the RSS was loyal to Caetano's vision of Lusitania, and even those who weren't were at least legalistic authoritarians like Director Jorge Travada, and just as hostile to the forces of democracy.
But I will persist, she swore to herself. She owed it to her people, to her constituents in Zalain and every Lusitanian. She summoned up that passion for their rights to stave off her growing fear. She focused on her predicament. I must get out of here.
The door opened. Her son Xabier stepped in. "Pa's going to pick up Marta and Carmen," he said.
Seeing her younger daughters would be welcome, but it sent a trickle of fear through Ascaro. The RSS would use them to get to her. She had to get Martzel and the others to safety. Then she'd do whatever she could, and she had no illusions she could prevail.
With hard work, Pieter and Brigitte got the artificial gravity and life support back on before they arrived in orbit of Lusitania. Henry entered the bridge, softsuit finally discarded, and sat to watch as Cera skillfully brought them in for a landing. The landing vector was limited almost beyond reason, he pondered, staring at the approach.
Piper voiced what he was already thinking. "They're forcing us to come down over rural and uninhabited areas," she said. "It's like they're worried we're going to drop bombs on their cities or something."
"It wouldn't surprise me if that were exactly what they’re worried about," Henry said quietly. "It's happened before. The League used to pull that with captured civilian ships. Pretend to be refugees, come in on landing vectors over our cities, then drop bombs on them. Got so bad, the CDF had to restrict refugee movement. It didn't go over well."
Piper sighed aloud. "Just when I think the war hasn't made our lives complicated enough."
Much to their relief—and the probable relief of the Lusitanian authorities—Cera kept them on course without the slightest deviation. Once at the spaceport, she banked them over to the hangar already assigned by the government and brought them in for a landing.
Henry noted that a handful of government vehicles were already present. Crap. This could go so wrong.
Once the ship was safely on the ground, Piper looked to him warily. "Orders, boss?"
"Stand everyone down for now," he said. "We're in no shape to run. Arrange a rotation with Pieter to ensure everyone's getting a chance to rest while we fix the rest of the ship."
"I'll make arrangements to get the fuses replenished," Tia offered. "From what little we have left in the bank accounts."
"Hopefully, it won't be little for much longer," Henry said, already standing. "Let me go see what's waiting for us."
"With our luck today, I'm afraid t' ask," Cera muttered.
Miri was waiting for Henry when he got to the mid-starboard hold. She was in a gray spacer's jumpsuit, one of the Shadow Wolf spares, with her hair brushed back into place. For her, it was a bit of vanity, perhaps. If she was going to get hung as a pirate, she wanted to at least look presentable.
Henry likely noticed her fatalistic mood. "I've got no idea what's going to happen," he said while stepping down from the metal stairs to the floor of the hangar. He was in a dark blue spacer's jacket over a green shirt and dark trousers. His pistol was hanging at his side from a holster. "Do you want to wait and see what they're here for?"
"No," Miri said. She shook her head. "I want this over with. If they think I'm a pirate, then there's nothing to be done about that. Just… see about getting people wondering about the League involvement. Show them your records of the attack."
"I plan on it," Henry said, which was the only assurance she knew he could give. She said nothing as he hit the switch on the control panel to open the hold.
A number of dark-suited men and women were standing quietly, a few discreetly holding firearms. Henry paid them no heed and walked toward a man standing out in the crowd. "That's one of Caetano's people," he whispered to Miri.
She nodded. So he survived at least. Did his boss?
Henry, meanwhile, began speaking. "I'm Captain James Henry, Shadow Wolf," he began. "Mister Carvalho, right?"
"Yes. João Carvalho, personal chief of security to the Prime Minister," was the answer. The Lusitanian man apparently enjoyed moving up in the world. His eyes turned to Miri. "This is Karla Lupa?"
"I am the survivor from the Kensington Star, yes," she said. "Although I believe the rest of the crew is still alive."
"So you say." Carvalho looked her over intently. His expression shifted to show bemusement and a slight grin. "New Cornwall's issued a warrant for your arrest, by the way. They will insist on your extradition if they learn you're here."
"They're wrong about me," Miri replied. "I didn't flee Harron by choice. I was attacked by someone sent to silence me. Captain Henry's crew rescued me."
"And we've been attacked twice now over it," Henry added.
"I'm aware of the Tash'vakal attack," said Carvalho. "And your engine damage upon jumping in indicated another. My superior will discuss this when you arrive."
"Caetano, I'm guessing," Henry said.
"I'm not allowed to divulge that information in public. Right now, it’s a state secret," was the answer. "Until we ascertain the full measure of the threat to the safety of the surviving Cabinet. Follow me, both of you."
Miri saw the tension in Henry as he stepped forward first. He didn't trust this situation. She didn't blame him either. As Felix had said, this was the perfect opportunity for a coup d'etat, and the refusal to admit the survivors publicly hinted at something more sinister. But neither of them had a choice, given the situation. Both went to the vehicle with Carvalho, who directed that the motorcade move out. One by one, the aircars pulled away from the hangar and left the spaceport.
As they drove through the city, Miri kept looking out at the nearly-empty streets. Many of those out and about were military or law enforcement personnel. A lot of the civilians seemed to be rushing along, as if terrified they'd come to government attention. It was not at all like the vibrant life she'd seen here a few years prior, during the last occasion when a ship she was on came to Gamavilla.
"Oh my God," muttered Henry. Miri turned her head and let out a soft gasp at the sight. A massive hole was showing in the side of the Parliament Building, covered in an enormous tarp. She knew by her earlier visit that the Assembly Chamber was the center of the damage. "Did anyone survive it?"
"I cannot say who, but some of the Assembly and visitors in the gallery did," Carvalho said. "It was a great and terrible crime. We will be quite thorough in punishing those responsible."
The aircar continued with the rest of the motorcade, down the Rua de Republica, and turned into the parking lot of the Royal Lusitania, one of the luxury hotels of the city. "For purposes of security, the State has taken control of this building and other hotels," Carvalho said.
That made sense to Miri. If they were worried about a wide-scale penetration of their security service, none of the standard residences would be safe. Playing a shell game with the hotels of the capital, and some of the private homes, would secure remaining government officials quite well, especially if they kept them moving to prevent eventual detection.
The motorcade pulled up to the entrance of the hotel. A security service woman in an elegant suit with a simple hijab wrapped over her head was waiting. A short-barreled automatic pulse gun hung from a shoulder strap as a clear warning to any potential threat. She kept the gun in her left hand while opening the door with her right.
"This way," Carvalho said, moving so Miri could slide out and Henry after her. "Please leave your firearm with security, Captain. We must insist."
Henry nodded and slowly pulled his pistol from his holster. The security guard accepted it. "Come to me when you are d
one," she ordered, her Arabic accent thick when she spoke.
The lobby was built for luxury. The baroque exterior was matched by exquisite tile on the floors that reflected the electric chandeliers that hung from the roof. A vibrant red carpet flowed from the door to the elevators beyond, while to one direction uniformed hotel personnel stood at their workplaces. Miri figured they were security officers in disguise. While the public couldn't miss the security measures, this would obscure the hotel's takeover.
The elevator took them up four floors, emptying into a hall every bit as decorated as the lobby was. The carpeting here was a verdant green framed by red, the old colors of the Portuguese Republic. The blue-tiled walls were covered in elegant portraiture and drapes with fine Arabic calligraphy. Miri figured this floor might only have four or five sets of suites, tops, and all furnished for wealthy clientele.
They arrived at a double door marked with the number forty-two. Carvalho opened the door and stepped into the foyer of a grand suite. Cream-colored couches and chairs surrounded a low table of beautiful crystal while a chandelier poured warm light down upon the visage. A wet bar to the right was lined with fine liquors, brandies, and wines. On the left was a pantry and kitchen, its surface made of burnished coppery-toned hardwood with stainless steel appliances and sink. Further to the right, beyond the center of the room, was a passageway presumably leading to the bedrooms. Elegant curtains were pulled down to cover the windows, which were set to be fully tinted, defeating external surveillance.
Four armed guards were standing in the room, and two more were seated. All turned to face them.
The only person who moved was the one sitting in the central recliner. A digital reader was set quietly down on the crystal table, allowing Miri and Henry to look into the face of its owner. "Captain, Miss Lupa, the Prime Minister of Lusitania," Carvalho said as if presenting a monarch.
