Stars in the Sand Page 6

   “Are you going to put out a request for volunteers, Captain?” Zebrova asked.

   “No,” he replied, shaking his head. “I want you all to go around your departments and ask for volunteers. I would prefer if they didn’t have any...attachments back home, though ultimately I will leave the decision to the conscience of the individual.”

   “I presume we have five already,” Caine said. “Corporal Cooper and Spaceman Bradley.”

   Cooper blushed, and replied, “I have spoken to her, yes, and she has indicated a willingness to volunteer.”

   “Which means thirteen more people will be required,” she said, looking around the room.

   “Security will have your forged documents, sir, including a bill of sale indicating that you have purchased the Ouroboros,” Bailey said. “Otherwise someone might ask what had happened to the original crew.”

   “You have a devious mind, Lieutenant,” Marshall said, “I approve. It’s even true, in a sense; I presented Captain Newton with a formal requisition from the Triplanetary Fleet this morning, the usual receipt redeemable at Mariner Station.”

   “If we ever do establish formal relations,” Caine said, “they’ll be a long queue outside the Fleet Disbursement office the next morning.”

   “As long as I’m not the one manning the desk,” Marshall said. “This is going to need a big effort from all of us; I want the Ouroboros ready to depart in three days. Which means we’re going to need the volunteers ready to go in twelve hours. Mr. Quinn, can you have the ship ready in that time?”

   “You’re going to need more than I was expecting, Captain. All signs of the battle are going to have to be removed. Fortunately there was no exterior damage...I think that will work.”

   “Mr. Price has indicated that he will lend us a shuttle from the station; we will not be taking any Triplanetary equipment with us, other than our uniforms.”

   “Uniforms?” Mulenga asked.

   “In the event that our capture becomes certain, if we are wearing our uniforms then we will be imprisoned, rather than being shot out of hand as spies.”

   “A distinction that I am uncertain the Cabal share,” Zebrova said. “Weapons?”

   “Cabal make only, and again, we can tap Hydra Station for what we need.”

   Cooper looked down at his hand, the mechanical fingers flexing; there had been no time to add the plasti-skin yet, not until he had finished training the new device to work with his nervous system.

   “Sir…”

   “Don’t worry, Corporal. Artificial hands all look pretty much alike, and if someone is checking that closely, there are plenty of other things they’ll pick up. Our job is to make sure that they don’t take too much of an interest in us; we’re going to need to use stealth, not force.”

   “We don’t have that much force available, anyway.”

   “We’ll need a cargo, as well,” Orlova said. “I’ll have a look at the other systems along the way, see what would make good trading goods. Might as well make a profit out of this mission.”

   Frowning, Mulenga said, “Do you think that is necessary, Lieutenant?”

   “Customs will be rather surprised if we’re out to make a loss, sir. If we want to avoid unwanted attention, we should try and do this right.”

   “Agreed. Take charge of that, Lieutenant.”

   “Aye, sir,” she said, leaning down over a datapad.

   “I’ll plot a best-speed course for you, Captain,” Mulenga said. “I might be able to shave a day or two off your flight time.”

   “Good.” Marshall looked around the room, then said, “There’s something I want to make quite clear. Alamo is not to wait for us to get back. You will conduct your repairs as rapidly as possible, Mr. Quinn, and as soon as they are complete, whether Ouroboros has returned or not, you will, Major, proceed to Spitfire Station.”

   The Major grew pale, then said, “Aye.”

   “Don’t worry too much,” Marshall continued. “We’ll still have a ship of our own, remember. We might catch up to you at the Shrouded Stars, even if we are a little late. The important thing is that I will not hazard Alamo or the remainder of her crew. Caine, Orlova, if after hearing that you want to back out now, feel free.”

   “No, sir,” Caine said.

   “Orlova?”

   She looked up from her datapad, frowned for a second, then shook her head. “Not a chance, Skipper. You’ll be wanting to borrow my flight jacket again, anyway.”

   “I presume I don’t have to ask you, Corporal?”

   “You don’t, sir.”

   “Then I will call this meeting to a close. We’ve all got a lot of work to do, and not much time to do it. Dismissed.”

   The officers rose, and walked out of the room, muttered and murmured conversations in the wake. Cooper looked triumphant, better than Marshall had seen him in weeks; this was his mission, and he was getting to have a try at it. After the crowd had left, only his father remained, still sitting opposite him.

   “You’re leaving me in command,” he said.

   “Don’t get too comfortable, Dad. I intend to come back.”

   “You’d damn well better,” he replied. “I only just got you back, and you’re going off on a one-way mission.”

   “Dad…”

   “I’ve been there, remember. I’ve made the decisions you are making now, and I know what the cost could be. You’re going out with no support, no backup, no way home if this goes wrong.”

   “Wouldn’t you have done the same thing?”

   “Yes, but I was young and stupid at the time,” he replied, sighing. “Eighteen people, Danny. Eighteen of you heading out into the dark.”

   “If we pull this mission off…”

   “Dammit, Danny, what is it going to take to satisfy you? How many times do you want to beat the odds? What is enough? We got here, you rescued my crew, avenged my ship, dealt the Cabal a serious blow...and now…”

   “Now I’m going to go and get the people who were captured to buy time for us to get away. Without their sacrifice, none of us would have got this far.”

   “That’s the point, isn’t it. Their sacrifice. You’re throwing that away.”

   Shaking his head, Marshall replied, “I would be if I chose to risk the ship. That’s why I’m asking for volunteers for this one.”

   “Hah,” his father snorted. “I know starship crews as well as you. Clannish, they are, and they’ll take risks to get back their own. You won’t be wanting for volunteers.”

   “Then…”

   “But you are in charge. You aren’t meant to be giving them options like this. There are other options. Now that we know they are there, we might be able to negotiate their release.”

   “You don’t really believe that. Besides, I’m not going to buy back our people. If we do that, then they’ll start hitting our installations just to capture warm bodies. You do not negotiate with terrorists. I learned that much at Command School.”

   “I just...don’t want to lose you.”

   “I’m not leaving a wife and son behind me.”

   His father’s face dropped, “Danny…”

   “I don’t have any ties back home. No family. Some friends who’ll drink a toast to me in the Officer’s Club and remember old times, but I don’t have as much to risk. Caine is the same. As for Orlova, well, her father would cheer her on all they way. I know him.”

   “What about me?”

   “You’re going to get my ship home, if I am unable to do so. You will make no attempt to rescue me, no attempt to come after me.”

   “I’m not sure I can obey that order.”

   “I am. You’ve got to get Alamo home and see that they send a task force out here to secure Hydra Station. That has to be done, come what may. If I can get the rest of our people back, then we have a bonus. Besides…”

   “What?”

>    “I want to send a message to the Cabal, loud and clear. Taking on that fleet was part of it, but going in after our people is another. They’re assuming that they have a superiority to them, and from what I can see it is the main reason they are contemplating an attack. If we can poke them a few times, make it clear that we can hit them where they live, they might have second thoughts.”

   “You just want to get your people back.”

   “Damn right I do.”

   Taking a deep breath, his father said, “I’ll get Alamo home for you. That’s a promise. But if you do not get back, then I will come to get you, whatever it takes.”

   Marshall looked up, nodded, and smiled, “Like son, like father, then.”

   “Something like that.”

  Chapter 8

   Orlova manipulated a pair of controls, bringing her shuttle up to match Ouroboros’ orbit; this time she wasn’t needing to rush it quite so much, and she eased back, conserving fuel while the navigation computer refined her course. Durman drifted in behind her, sliding smoothly into the co-pilot’s couch.

   “All secure back there, Maggie,” he said. “There are going to be a lot of bland meals down on Driftwind for the next few months. Three tons of herbs and spices, all itemized and indexed.”

   “You gave me the idea; we’re hitting a lot of small prospecting outposts on the way. Luxury goods we can trade for rare elements, precious metals. Did that vodka come on board?”

   “Much to Price’s protests, it did. You do realize you need a license to trade that stuff? I could have a word with your security people.”

   Shaking her head, she replied, “That isn’t a cargo, it’s an offering. I know Customs officials. If they don’t find anything illegal, they’ll keep looking until they do. If we make sure that they find it, we end up having to pay a bribe or a fine, and then they let us in. We might even get to keep most of it.”

   “You know rather too much about this.”

   “I was a smuggler, not that long ago. This isn’t new to me.”

   “Does the Captain know?”

   With a smile, she said, “First time I met him he hired me to smuggle him onto Alamo.”

   “Onto his own ship?”

   “It wasn’t his ship then. Long story.”

   “I see,” he said looking around. “Maggie, how are you doing for volunteers?”

   “Pretty well, so far, so I hear. We’re going to sort out a final list tonight.”

   “I want to put my name down.”

   “Are you sure about that? If I get captured, then I get arrested and end up as a prisoner. If you were captured, they’d shoot you as a traitor.”

   “I’ve thought about that, but you need me. Someone you knows the lie of the land, who knows what the security forces will be looking for. If this is going to work, then you’ve got to have my help.”

   “Going up against your own people, again?”

   “In for a centicred, in for a megacred, Maggie. I’ve gone this far, so I might as well go a bit further. I’m not a bad mechanic, as well, and I’m pretty good with a gun…”

   “You don’t need to give me your full resume, I’ve seen you in action.” She paused, then said, “I’ll put your name on the list. The Captain’s going to pick from the applicants, but I’ll tell him why you want to do it. I think it does make sense for you to go, even if I think you are crazy to do it.”

   Nodding, he replied, “Thanks.”

   She glanced at her board, and a trio of lights began to wink on. “Hold on, I’ve got to sort out the docking.” Playing a series of thrusters around, she lined the ship up with its target, guiding it into the cradle that extended out from the underside of the freighter. A couple of light taps with the thrusters, and the shuttle came to a stop, and the mechanism began to work, pulling them inside.

   “I think I prefer getting on board this way,” Durman said. “Getting shot is not my top hobby.”

   “Seems to happen to me too damn often,” she replied, throwing a series of switches to start the automated post-flight checklist. “Can you get the cargo stowed away? I should be heading up to the bridge.”

   “Will do.”

   Unstrapping herself from her couch, she gently glided over to the hatch and drifted out onto the deck; Chief Wilson, one of her old crew from Hercules, waved at her as she came on board.

   “Permission to come aboard?”

   “Granted, Lieutenant,” he replied. “I’ll get the shuttle servicing started.”

   “You over here with the repair crew?”

   “Actually, I’m over here for keeps.”

   She looked at him, shaking her head, “You already escaped from the Cabal once.”

   “No, I was rescued, which is why I’m going. Thought I’d better return the favor. Besides, after all this time, I don’t have anything much back home to worry about. Reckon a lot of us from the Herc are in the same boat. I’m not the only one to volunteer for this mission. Captain Marshall had a long talk with me about it, and I pointed out that you’ll need a good mechanic.”

   “That we will,” she said. “I’m glad to have you with us.”

   “Be just like old times, eh, Lieutenant.”

   “I hope there aren’t as many missiles flying around. The point is for this to be an easy mission, for us to just go in and out of the Cabal without anyone noticing.”

   “Oh, I get that, Lieutenant. I just don’t think it’s going to be that easy. We’ll find a way through, though, I think. She’s not a bad ship, tough and old.”

   A voice crackled over the loudspeaker, distorted enough that she couldn’t make out who it was. It repeated twice before she could make out, “Lieutenant Orlova to the Bridge.”

   “Looks like they’re singing my song, Chief,” she said.

   “Must be nice to be popular,” he replied as she pushed off towards the elevator, swinging on the handrail and tapping the control button. It was sometimes nice to be in zero gravity, though it could get old after the first few months. She ran her fingers through her hair, making a note to see if Hydra Station had a decent barber on board before they left. Gravity was a luxury she was beginning to take too much advantage of.

   The door slid open on a surprisingly crowded deck; Weitzman and Spinelli were having an argument over the Exterior Operations Station, trying to squeeze two sets of controls and software into a panel that could barely fit one, and Nelyubov was sitting at the helm, a toolkit strewn about him as though he was being orbited by debris, poking at the console.

   “That you, Lieutenant?” he said, turning his head.

   “What’s up, Frank?” she replied.

   “We’re having trouble configuring the helm controls. I’m pretty sure that we can squeeze some more maneuvering out of her, but we might have to be remotely piloted by Alamo on our first jump.”

   Shaking her head, she said, “Skip it, then. We’ll leave things as they are.”

   “If we have to dodge something big…”

   With a hollow laugh, she replied, “If we’re in that much trouble, everything’s gone to hell anyway. We’ll just have to manage with what we’ve got; this is a fast ship, anyway.”

   “Yes, but I can make it faster, I think.”

   Pausing for a second, she said, “You’ve volunteered, haven’t you?”

   “I think I’ll be accepted, too.”

   “You’re crazy.”

   “If I am, so is Race. He’s signed up as astrogator, and I already know he’s been accepted. Someone’s got to steer us through all this.”

   “Why?”

   “Two reasons. First because it’s the right thing to do, and second, well, you’re going.”

   Her eyes widened, and she said, “What’s that got to do with anything?”

   “I can only speak for myself, but, well, I trust you.”

   “Captain Marshall’s in comman
d, not me.”

   “I don’t know him well enough to judge, yet, but from what I can see you have a talent for getting yourself into and out of tight situations. I’m willing to take a bet on that, and so is Race, for that matter.”

   She hung from a ceiling bar, looking around the bridge, “You realize there is a chance we could be captured. They’d send you right back to one of the resource worlds.”

   “I thought about that. Alamo’s going back, so even if we don’t make it home, my folks will know what happened to me, and the Fleet will do something to get us home.”

   “If they can.”

   “Isn’t the Fleet doing just that now? You’re telling me that Captain Marshall is the only one who would send off a mission like this?”

   Shaking her head, she said, “No, there are a few others who would have a try.”

   He started to flick switches on the console, then said, “I’m going to need to visit the station tailor, though. I don’t think I can wear this on the bridge, and I’d like something comfortable. Something else – I know we’re not supposed to take anything Triplanetary on board, but do you think anyone would mind if I updated the software in the food processors?”

   “The food processors?” Orlova asked. “Why?”

   “You haven’t gone down to the mess yet, then. I thought Alamo’s systems were bad until I attempted to eat lunch.”

   “The freighter crews managed.”

   “Barely.”

   Frowning, she said, “If I was inspecting the ship, looking for signs that the crew wasn’t who they were meant to be, the food systems is one of the places I would look.”

   “We’re installing a new countermeasures package, Lieutenant,” Spinelli said from the rear.

   “That’s different, Spaceman,” she replied. “Electronic warfare programs hide themselves by their very nature. If we’re flying around with a Triplanetary food system, it could raise too many questions.”

   “Go down and have a sandwich, then talk.”

   “We can take on food, though. As long as it isn’t labeled, and we use it up fairly quickly,” she said. “In fact, we should trade for it as we go; I bet the freighter’s crew did that all the time. It’ll make it look more realistic.”