Fortunes of War (Stellar Main Book 1)

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Fortunes of War (Stellar Main Book 1) Page 5

by Richard Tongue


  “No, you aren’t,” she said. “I know that trick. You knew where you were going, and you know enough about this part of town to know that you can’t walk around unarmed, which means that you are precisely on schedule. And knowing when I’m scheduled to meet Larson, you’d have given yourself enough time for unexpected contingencies.” Glancing at Kharkova, she added, “And wanting to take someone else along for the ride is something you planned for, or you wouldn’t have that extra seat.”

  Houston smiled, and said, “I think you’re going to like my boss. You already remind me rather uncomfortably of her.” Gesturing at the packages on the table, he said, “Feel free to bring your lunch with you, as long as you don’t mind eating on the move.”

  “I think I can manage that,” Carter said, slapping the lid on her half-finished meal. Wu picked up a box for herself, then walked over to the door.

  “Come on,” she said. “I thought we were in a hurry.” Outside, waiting for them, was an armored transit vehicle, shiny and new, with a pair of uniformed guards standing on either side, not bothering to conceal their sidearms. The door popped open as they approached, and Houston gestured for them to climb inside.

  “Nice ride,” Carter said.

  “What the Company wants, the Company gets,” Houston replied.

  “Does that include me?” she asked.

  “I guess that depends on what happens at the meeting.”

  Chapter 5

  Gemini Station loomed large in the viewscreen as the shuttle dived towards it, making its way carefully towards its goal. The oldest permanently-manned installation in the sector, the station was buried into one of a pair of duel asteroids, rotating around each other a dozen times an hour, a cosmic ballet that was awe-inspiring to watch. Originally, the base had focused on resource extraction, mining gadolinium from the heart of the rocks, but by the time the veins had run out, the colony on the world below was large enough to justify the maintenance of a larger installation.

  Not that it was used by the local population, not any more. A smaller space station, low over Colchis, was the usual haunt of the trading ships that visited the world. Gemini was exclusively for the upper classes, the wealthy elite. Split between the Olympus Development Corporation, the Commonwealth Patrol and the planetary administration. Ordinary spacers would only board by invitation only. She’d visited once before, months ago, when her father was signing the contract to supply ODC’s remote outposts.

  “Coming in to land now,” the pilot said, his clipped tones reverberating from the overhead speaker. She looked around the interior of the shuttle, shaking her head. They were travelling in luxury. Carpeted floors, the scent of jasmine in the air, soft cushions on the couches. And everything was clean, meticulous and polished, to the extent that she almost felt embarrassed by the battered clothes she was wearing, already graying from a day on the planet below.

  Wu, on the other hand, had put her feet up on the opposite chair shortly after takeoff, earning a dirty look from the flight attendant and an amused smile from Houston. That was the right attitude to take. They were deliberately attempting to put her on edge, to make her feel uncomfortable, and even if it was working, it would be a grave mistake to admit it.

  The shuttle nimbly slid into the elevator airlock, the system smoothly dragging them onboard, another refinement that made her shake her head. Normally, it would be a question of finding a docking port. Dragging the whole shuttle into the inside of the station was just ostentatious. Even if it did make maintenance and security easier.

  She rose to her feet, Houston a second ahead of her, walking to the airlock, Wu following with a wry smile spread across her face. The hatch snapped open, and the three of them stepped onto the station, a crowd of technicians swarming towards the shuttle, ready to prepare it for launch. On the far side of the room, a pair of larger ships rested, one of them with a group of people looking around it, including the two Joes. An old Wildcat-class Scout, swept wings for planetary landings, and in good condition.

  Overseeing the group was none other than Captain Petrov, who glanced up at her, throwing her a foul look. Carter returned it with a beaming smile, before being guided by Houston into the waiting elevator, Wu following a second later, just as the doors slid shut. Houston tapped in an access code, then turned to Carter as the mechanism engaged.

  “You’ve met Captain Petrov, of course. I take it the two of you didn’t get on.”

  “That’s putting it mildly,” she replied. “His response to the death of my crew was to find a way to blame it on my father and find a way to help the insurers void our policy. Not to mention forcing one of the few officers on his ship who actually gave a damn out of the service.”

  “Me, I just disliked him on general principles,” Wu said. “One look at his face was enough.”

  “If it’s any consolation, I know that my boss agrees with you. I suspect that’s one of the reasons you’re up here.” He smiled, then added, “You might be surprised just how many friends his enmity gives you.” Reaching for a control, he said, “We’re almost here. Miss Wu…”

  “Cassie, for God’s sake.”

  “Cassie, you can wait with me in the anteroom. I must admit to being curious to look at your hidden weaponry. I’m always eager to enhance my arsenal.”

  The door slid open, and Houston led the way inside, gesturing for Carter to make for the door at the far end of the room. The anteroom was almost bare, only a few chairs scattered around, cameras monitoring the corners of the room, and holoimages of local space decorating the walls. The luxury and opulence elsewhere on the station seemed to be absent, not even a carpet on the floor.

  “Better to save the money and spend it where it is most needed, Miss Carter,” a surprisingly soft voice replied, the door opening to admit a tall, flame-haired woman, wearing a business suit cut perfectly to fit her figure, doubtless the latest style back in the Core Systems. “I’m glad you approve.”

  “I take it you are…”

  “Kimberly Larson. Call me Kim.” She turned to Houston, and said, “Twenty minutes ahead of schedule. Not bad at all, Felix. And I’m afraid you’ll have to allow Tonya to entertain our additional guest. I need you to go back down to the hangar deck and keep an eye on Captain Petrov. I don’t put anything past him right now.”

  “Sure, boss,” he replied, turning to Wu. “Some other time, I hope.”

  “If you’ll come with me?” Larson asked, leading the way into a smaller, cramped office, barely large enough for a desk and two chairs, the walls bare and sparse. “I prefer keeping meetings small and intimate. There’s a conference room, but I try not to use it any more than I can help. Any meeting with more than two people tends to do nothing other than waste time in pointless posturing.” Taking her seat, she said, “We have a mutual problem, Miss Carter.”

  “Vicky,” Carter said with a smile, sitting opposite her. “Are we talking about Captain Petrov?”

  “Indirectly. We’re talking about Fortuna. And the apparent inability of the Patrol to track her down.” She waved a hand across her desk, triggering a hidden control, and the walls suddenly came alive, starfields flicking into view, matched with outline specifications of a dozen trading ships. “They’ve been careful not to attack any government vessels, or even any ship directly owned by the company, but still, the attacks are taking place, and worsening in intensity.” Leaning back on her chair, she asked, “Why do you think your ship was attacked?”

  “I thought it might have been a mistake,” Carter replied. “Our cargo wasn’t particularly valuable. Nothing worth going to that effort to steal.”

  “That’s one possibility, but I have another, one I think considerably more likely. Your father, may his soul rest, was one of the better-known free traders working in this area, and his ship had a reputation for getting its cargo to its destination rapidly and reliably. More than that, he had contacts with a lot of other key figures. Getting him to work for us was beneficial to both parties.” She sighed, and sa
id, “Now, of course, all of that is lost.”

  “One ship was that important to you?” Carter asked.

  “One ship. Eight lives.” Tapping her desk, she said, “And whether or not I knew it at the time, I signed the orders that sent them to their deaths. We’ve had half a dozen other contractors implement the penalty clauses to break their contracts, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. People are starting to notice what’s going on. Not only out here, but back home. Our share price is falling rapidly.”

  “My heart bleeds for your shareholders.” Carter’s face fixed into a frown, and she added, “You’ll forgive me if I have other priorities.”

  “Certainly, and on that note, I have something for you.” She reached into her pocket, and pushed out a credit card, emblazoned with the ODC logo, black letters on white. “I took the liberty of dispatching the relevant payments to the living dependents of your crew. The rest is yours. The sum of nine hundred and thirty-one thousand, three hundred and nine credits.”

  “Captain Petrov said that the insurers…”

  “We will see to that for you.” Pushing across a datapad, she said, “We’re buying out your insurance. We’ll deal with Lloyds directly. They’re more likely to be receptive to a larger company than a small one, particularly one no longer operating.”

  Shaking her head, Carter said, “I won’t take a bribe, and I won’t allow this to be buried. If you think that any amount of money would convince me not to talk about this, you’re wrong. I might not be able to take the fight to the pirates directly, but I can make enough of a stink to force the Patrol to do its God-damned job, no matter what you, your shareholders, or anyone else might want!”

  “I agree,” Larson replied. “Completely. The money serves two purposes. Hopefully it will convince you of our good faith, and it might provide you with the means to take on the pirates yourself. Or at least shame the Patrol, and Captain Petrov, into greater activity than is currently the case.”

  Frowning, Carter said, “I don’t buy it.”

  “It’s perfectly true.” Folding her hands together, she said, “The Patrol won’t conduct a proper search. And to be fair, they don’t really have the resources to do it. Not unless some of the reserve flotillas could be committed to the fight, and that would take serious pressure from the Senate. Legally, I can’t arm any of our ships over a certain level, nowhere near enough to think about taking on Fortuna and her crew. You can thank the Seven Suns War for that.”

  Tapping a control, she brought up a series of charts, and said, “We’re a long-term proposition, Vicky. There are a lot of worlds out here for humanity, dozens of them, but we’re at the limit of economic viability. When we bid for the contract to develop this area, there wasn’t very much competition. Raising funds has been tough as hell, all the way, but if we can get things going out here, it’ll be worth it. In twenty, fifty years, we could have millions of people living out here, living lives they could never have dared to dream of before. I’ve been to Solstice City. If we left things to work themselves out, that’s all we’d get. A dozen of those, scattered across the stars. We’re trying for something better.”

  “And hoping to make a profit into the bargain.”

  “Of course,” she replied. “Why not? Why shouldn’t we? Our investors are taking a risk in tomorrow, and my job is to see that it pays off. Except that if these pirate raids get much worse, we’ll go under. Our share price is down thirty-five percent over the last three months. There’s nothing I can do from this desk to improve matters. Except find a way to stop the pirates, clear the shipping lanes again. That’s where you come in.”

  “For revenge?”

  “You’ve made it clear that you want a chance to bring the murderers of your crew to justice. I’m willing to help you. Quietly. I can’t do anything openly, but…”

  Tapping the credit card, Carter said, “But you’ve found a way to get a lot of funding onto the table. That number is the maximum possible payout. Even if Lloyds does pay, we’ll be lucky to get ten percent of the value of the policy.”

  “Which we can write off a lot more easily than you can.” She looked back at Carter, and added, “I said it wasn’t a bribe, and I meant it. Your crew died on a mission for the Company. It’s only fair that you get paid out, and if Lloyds won’t do it, I will.”

  “To promote your corporate reputation.”

  “Partly, yes, I admit.” Frowning, she asked, “Do you need my motives to be completely pure? There are no saints in this universe, just sinners of varying degrees. I’d like to think I was better than a lot of the others out there, but I’m realistic enough to admit that isn’t always the case. Are you?”

  “I hope so.” Taking the credit card and sliding it into her wallet, she asked, “What else can you give me, aside from a topped-up bank account?”

  “Information, for one thing. To supplement that you have already been provided. I can give you complete records of all planned ship movements by Company owned or leased ships for the next three months. I’d be astonished if we didn’t have a leak somewhere, and while our security people are good, they’re not infallible. You might be able to work out where they’re going to strike next.”

  “That helps. A little. There’s an obvious problem that occurs to me.”

  “You need a ship,” Larson said, a smile on her face. “I might be able to help you with that, too. Have you heard of Pan-Galactic?”

  “Four-ship trading company,” Carter replied. “With a specialty in trade pioneering.”

  “They were, until last month. I guess they ran out of luck and their investors ran out of patience. That, and their CFO ran off with what was left in their bank account. They went spectacularly bankrupt. Their ships are being auctioned off in an attempt to clear at least some of their debt, and one of them is sitting down in the hangar right now.”

  “The Wildcat?”

  “That’s right. She’s in good condition, well-maintained. I had some of my techs look her over, and we’ve identified the areas that need work. It shouldn’t be too difficult for you to get her back into fully operational condition. While we can’t do the work for you, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to share a copy of the engineering report.” She rolled a datarod towards her, and Carter snatched it from the desk. “I spent fifty credits of your insurance money to buy you a bidding pass.”

  “Thomas O’Dell cost ten million credits,” Carter replied. “It took my father fifteen years to pay it off, and not a little luck to do it. That’s a smaller ship, but even at auction, it’d be worth at least three, four million. How long have I got to organize the bank loan?”

  “The auction begins in forty minutes. That’s why I had to get you up here so quickly.”

  “Then it’s impossible. I’d be lucky to organize a loan in forty days. With the money you gave me, I’ve probably got enough of a stake to get a start with something, but…”

  “We don’t have forty days.” She smiled, and replied, “Why don’t you go down there and look for yourself. See what happens. You never know unless you try, right? Maybe you’ll get lucky. Not that I have taken steps to influence the auction in the slightest, of course. That would have been extremely improper.” Nodding at the door, she said, “Go get your ship. That’s as far as I can go. The rest is up to you.”

  “Thanks,” Carter replied, rising from her chair.

  “Our interests coincide,” Larson said. “We both want those pirates taken down. I’m gambling that you’ve got a chance to pull it off. The future of everyone in this sector might be riding with you.” Her smile widened, and she added, “No pressure.”

  Chapter 6

  Petrov’s eyes widened as Carter passed her bidding pass to his yeoman for authorization, the young officer running it twice at his superior’s silent request, the light flashing green both times. She took her place with the other bidders, sitting at their heart, and glanced back to see Houston at the rear of the room, chattering with Wu. Rogers moved to sit beside her, Scott o
n the other side, puzzled frowns on their faces.

  “What are you doing up here?” Scott asked.

  “I’m bidding on the Wildcat,” she replied, quietly.

  Rogers looked up at the ship, then asked, “Did Aunt Bella have some money hidden somewhere?”

  “I got the insurance payout early.”

  A smile crossed Scott’s face, and he said, “That’s fantastic! Hon, we’re not bidding.”

  “Yes, we are,” Rogers said, her smile matching that of her husband. “There are enough sharks swimming in this pool that Vicky’s going to need someone riding shotgun. How much have you got?”

  “A little under a million.”

  “Not enough,” Scott replied, his smile dropping into a frown.

  “Kim Larson seemed to think it was.”

  Raising an eyebrow, he said, “The COO of ODC’s backing your play? Interesting.”

  “We’ll hold it to eight hundred,” Rogers whispered. “After that, it’s down to you and your friends upstairs. I Just hope it’s enough.” Gesturing at a squat, fat man sitting by himself in the corner, she added, “That’s your big opposition. Don McBride, of AstraTech. They were hoping to pick up all of Pan-Galactic’s assets cheaply. Rumor has it that they had something to do with the collapse of the company. I wouldn’t put it past him.” Petrov moved over to McBride, quietly speaking to him.

  “Great,” Carter said, shaking her head. “He’s running the auction?”

  “And he’s going to do it by the book, or everyone else in this room will throw that book right into his face. There are representatives of half a dozen shipping companies in this room, some of them just here to observe, some of them hoping for a bargain.” She paused, then added, “And most of them do a lot of business with ODC. She might have found a way to swing this, after all. So does AstraTech, though.”

 

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