Escape From Argus
by William L. Lavell
© 2011 by William L. Lavell
SMASHWORDS EDITION
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced – mechanically, electronically, or by any other means, including photocopying – without written consent of the author.
ISBN – 1-4635-8859-3
Printed in the United States of America.
First printing July 2011
Smashwords
Edition, License Notes
This
ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may
not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to
share this book with another person, please purchase an additional
copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not
purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please
return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for
respecting the hard work of this author.
“Per Aspera Ad Astra”
(A rough road leads to the stars)
CHAPTER ONE
Aarla had her shortcomings, but she knew how to make an entrance.
Instead of making a grand spectacle of herself as she strode through the corridors of Corporate Headquarters, she simply let the clicking of her heels announce her presence. She guessed that she was about fifteen minutes late for her meeting, but she wasn’t going to be rushed today. On this walk, she kept her pace steady and deliberate. In her position, she felt entitled to the luxury of being fashionably late from time to time.
She’d purposely taken extra time dressing that morning to get just the look she wanted. She decided on a loose white dress made of the finest material in the Three Systems. It was a stark contrast to the black fatigues of the soldiers who flanked her. The neckline started high enough that it didn’t expose too much, but it showed enough of her tanned skin to attract the eye. The dress’s hem nearly touched the floor, but at the same time the material was sheer enough to reveal the white bodysuit she wore underneath. It didn’t show any skin, but it left nothing of her curvy figure to the imagination.
She finished her outfit off with a simple black belt and boots. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders without a single strand out of place. As she sauntered through the corridors, she refused to make eye contact with anyone. She held her head straight, and kept her gaze level and self-assured, as one might expect from someone of her station. She didn’t stop to see if her outfit was having the desired effect, but she could tell that it was. The troopers tried not to be obvious about their staring, but she could feel the eyes of every man in the corridor on her as she passed them.
She only hoped that the effect would be just as striking at her meeting. With the news she had to deliver at this appearance, she wanted to look intimidating. At the very least, she thought she could use her looks to distract her audience from thinking too much about what she was going to tell them.
Of all her responsibilities as President and CEO of the Three Systems, attending board meetings was the one she enjoyed the least. She referred to the Board of Directors not so affectionately as “the Old Men”, or “the Jury”. For her, a jury was exactly what they were. The Board of Directors was comprised of twelve old men whose combined fortunes had built this division of the Company from the proverbial ground up. They were the oldest money in the sector, and their mission statement was simple: they wanted results, and they wanted them quickly.
Board meetings were held once each month. The minutes from the meetings would be sent to the home office on Old Earth, a process that took almost two years. At that point their data would be discussed at a meeting of the Earth office, and a reply message would be sent. Of course it took these messages another two years to get back to Olympia. It was just a formality, though. Four year old information was completely useless to the Board on Olympia, but protocol was protocol. No matter how counterproductive it seemed, protocol was followed to the letter. Other than following procedure however, the Three Systems branch of the Company ran its own affairs and answered to no one.
As a rule, the Board didn’t take an active part in the day to day workings of the Company, so long as Aarla’s decisions earned them all a healthy profit. When she could make them money, she was given the proverbial pat on the back for her hard work and dedication to the job. But when she lost them money, her actions were met with blistering criticism, usually from all of them at once. Board members had approached her time and again to reassure her that their treatment of her in meetings was strictly business, and should not be taken personally. But she still believed that at least some of the Old Men really meant to do her harm.
Of course the Old Men all had their own ideas about how The Company’s money should be spent. They also had very definite ideas about where certain budget cuts would be appropriate. Their ideas differed sharply from Aarla’s, which was fuel for constant conflict. The biggest point of contention was the budget for the Security Forces. The Old Men found the cost of maintaining a standing military prohibitive to say the least. Aarla held the position that although each planet had its own law enforcement, the Security Forces were better equipped to handle large-scale threats. Since the Company basically owned the Three Systems, she reasoned that it was their duty to ensure that they were protected, and that would be impossible to do without the Security Force. That line of logic usually put an end to the argument for that day, but she still found herself continually fighting the same battle with “the Jury”.
As she reached the conference room doors, her mind wandered to thoughts of the escaped fugitive, Jace Ryan. Her plan to eliminate him and three other prisoners in a shuttle “accident” on Beauregard did not go at all as she’d planned. But in reality, he’d been one of the best things that had ever happened to her. That fiasco couldn’t have come at a better time. The news of Ryan’s escape was traveling quickly through the systems, and the effect it was having on the masses made the Old Men increasingly nervous. No one had ever escaped the Security Forces before. In fact, no one had ever escaped from Commander Straker before. But now here was a ragtag group of convicts who not only stole a spacecraft from under the nose of Beauregard’s law enforcement, they had engaged Straker’s flagship with it and survived to tell the tale. They were quickly becoming the stuff of legends, and the legends were spreading. The more people heard the stories, the more of them were foolish enough to think they’d fare as well if they resisted. It was job security for the Security Forces, as long as it was kept under control.
Some of the stories were true, and some of them were exaggerated. But it didn’t matter. What mattered was that the stories were out there, and they were giving the people hope. Aarla thought things were going well, but there were those on the Board who thought that hope for the masses was simply too damned expensive for the Company. There was no doubt in her mind as to what the major topic of discussion at this meeting would be. The board wanted Ryan stopped, and they wanted him stopped soon. Aarla was sure that she could use this situation to get what she wanted.
She took a deep breath to steady herself before she pushed through the doors. The circular room, which had been awash in a sea of outraged voices, fell silent as the president entered. The clicking of her heels was the only sound in the room as she strode past the circular hardwood conference table and took her place at a brass and smoke-tinted glass podium at the front of the room. Her blue eyes panned the room and were met all around by expectant looks from ‘the Jury’.
“Greetings gentlemen,” she began. “I now call this emergency meeting of the IHC Board of Directors to order. Let the minutes show that the current date is the twenty-first of September, twenty-five sixteen, and the time is seven eighteen am. Computer, begin recording.”
The computer beeped its response, and a small red light lit up in front of her on the podium. “I’ll get right to the point of this meeting.” She touched a control on the podium, and a three-dimensional holographic map of the system appeared in front of the podium. Four planets appeared to be highlighted in red, and appeared to be a slightly larger scale than the rest.
“As you all know, the Security Forces were recently deployed to Andoh, Augustine, Corenthia, and Arion on re-acquisition missions.” She pointed to the planets in order. “Augustine, Andoh, and Corenthia have all been re-acquired. The fighting on Arion is ongoing. At last report, the Prime-Minister’s supply lines have been cut off. We expect to retake the planet shortly.”
She took another look around the table, hoping that the good news had softened them up to discuss the bad news. But no one’s expression had changed. She leaned forward and folded her hands in front of her. “Now we come to the main topic of discussion for this meeting. You may also be aware that the Security Forces have reported a small incident which took place on the planet Beauregard.”
She was about to continue, but the man sitting to her right was staring so angrily at her it broke her concentration. As she scanned the room she noticed that the other board members had similar expressions on their faces. Before she could speak again, the room erupted into chaos as all of the members expressed their own personal outrage at the same time.
“Small?” cried one board member.
“Straker’s report made it sound more like a full scale battle than a ‘small incident’,” shouted another.
“And the Security Forces lost!” said a third, getting up from his chair and slamming his hand on the table indignantly. The rest of the voices just blended into a sea of shouting.
Aarla frowned as she unfolded her hands. She brought one hand up and rested her chin on her palm. With her other hand, she absently drummed her perfectly sculpted fingernails on the podium. She’d seen the Old Men get rowdy before when they expressed their displeasure on issues, but on this occasion, they were out-doing themselves. They were all pounding on the hardwood table, almost in unison. Some of them were demanding that Straker resign. One was even calling for Aarla to step down. She was used to this, though. At least one of the Board members acted this way at every meeting. Usually it was a different one of them each time, and for a different reason. But at this meeting, the furor was much more intense. To say that “The Jury” was unhappy with the recent turn of events would have been an understatement.
Aarla drew a deep breath. Her frown intensified into a scowl as her icy blue eyes focused on an arbitrary point near the center of the room. She hated it when they forced her to do this, but she was perfectly capable of shouting above them all when she had to.
“If I might be allowed to continue!” The harshness of her voice surprised even her. Her sudden outburst drew their attention back to her. The scowl on her face silenced the room.
“A transport ship carrying four prisoners to the Dagmar Prison facility experienced a complete failure of all inboard flight systems over the planet Beauregard.” The hostility left her expression and her voice as quickly as they’d appeared. “The ship crash-landed on the planet, and regrettably, the pilot was killed on impact. The prisoners, on the other hand, survived. They acquired a ship from another outlaw named Tavion Karr, and escaped Beauregard before local law enforcement and the planet’s Security detachment could stop them.
“Karr however, did not escape. He was apprehended by Commander Straker’s forces while he was trying to leave the system. The Commander is now transporting him to our Dagmar facility under heavy guard. He will be held there on charges of piracy, conspiracy, trading in stolen merchandise, aiding and abetting wanted fugitives, resisting arrest, and assaulting Company security officers. His sentence will be a long one, so that it may serve as an example to all those who would violate the laws of our Three Systems.”
“The Commander’s report mentioned that the detainees were led by a prisoner named Jace Ryan,” a board member noted. “Has he been detained? And what of the other prisoners?”
“At this time, we have no reason to believe that Ryan and the other prisoners have left the system,” the president replied. “However, I have ordered the alert status across all of the Three Systems raised to yellow as a precaution. Acting Fleet Commander Bannar Crim is coordinating a planet-by-planet search in Commander Straker’s absence. Rest assured that the Security Forces are giving this matter due diligence. The prisoners will be found and dealt with in due time.”
“That was so smooth it sounded like one of our press releases, Aarla,” another board member said. “But the fact of the matter is, as badly as the whole Beauregard situation was handled, we don’t have as much faith in the security forces as you do.”
“Commander Crim is a capable field commander with a distinguished record,” she replied sharply. “He has served the Security force for over twenty years. For the last seven years he has been in command of Flotilla Six, one of our finest units. I have every confidence that he can complete his mission successfully.”
“But we do not,” came the reply. “What is your contingency plan if his mission should fail?”
“In the event Commander Crim cannot capture the prisoners, I have also ordered that the rewards for their capture be raised. The reward now stands at fifty thousand credits for each of them. Whether our men capture them, or they are brought to us by privateers, they will be found and dealt with.”
“So we’ve resorted to bringing bounty hunters into this now?” Yet another board member was shaking his head. “That makes us sound rather desperate, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” another chimed in. “And incompetent!”
“I plan to use any and all resources at my disposal to rectify this situation,” Aarla replied. “But let me point out to all of you that the shuttle used to Transport the prisoners was an S-111 cargo ship which had been repurposed to carry prisoners. The ship’s onboard systems were antiquated and in a state of disrepair. I submit to you that if the Security Force was allowed the required funding to repair and replace their aging and outdated equipment – an increase of, say, thirty percent? – perhaps situations like this could be avoided in the future. We need to be proactive instead of reactive, gentlemen.”
The room filled with the sound of voices again. But this time the voices were lower, and a lot less angry.
On the surface, Aarla was stone-faced, full of resolve and refusing to back down from her statement or her convictions. But on the inside, she was all smiles. She had them all in the palm of her hand now, and she knew it. She actually had them discussing the possibility of increasing the Security Force’s funding. Now that she’d brought them so far away from their opening position, she knew it was only a matter of time before they came all the way and gave her what she wanted.
The murmur died down, and finally there was a clear voice from the side of the room. “Move to increase the funding of the Security Forces by fifteen percent, on the condition that the increase is allocated to fund the procurement of upgraded equipment.”
Another voice came from across the room. “I second the motion.”
“Gentlemen,” Aarla fought to keep the happiness she felt out of her voice. “A motion has been made and seconded. All those in favor?”
Aarla cast a glance around the room as hands were raised all around.
“All opposed?”
She glanced around the room again. Not a single hand was raised.
“Let the record show that the motion to increase funding to the IHC Security Force for the purpose of upgrading equipment has passed unanimously. Unless anyone has other business, we are adjourned.”
Of course there wasn’t any other business. She knew that there wouldn’t be. She fought to keep a smile from creeping across her lips. “Meeting adjourned. Computer, end recording.”
The holographic map faded, and the red light on the podium went out. Aarla couldn’t stop herself from grinning as the Old Men stood and left the room. She’d asked them for thirty percent, and true to form they cut her figure in half and gave her fifteen. She figured they were trying to be fiscally responsible. They also thought that if they gave her less than she’d asked for, they’d feel that they’d still won somehow. But she knew that in reality she could have upgraded the equipment with only ten percent more. Mission accomplished.
Her satisfaction was short lived however. Her grin faded when a slow clapping sound from the far side of the room drew her attention away from the door. As she turned, she saw that one of the board members, Mr. Ellesby, had stayed behind.
While the other board members stood on formalities and wore their finest clothes and jewelry to these meetings, Ellesby always dressed down. To look at him in his simple shirt and trousers, it would have been hard to tell that he was perhaps the richest man on the board. His gray hair was still full and thick, making him appear much younger than his ninety years.
“I applaud your tenacity and ability to sell your position, Madam President. It’s at times like these that I’m reminded why we voted you President in the first place.”
The expression on his face was unreadable. She wasn’t sure if he was being sincere or not, so she opted to be gracious. “Thank you, Mister Ellesby. I appreciate the compliment.”
“Of course you do.” Ellesby brought his hands to his waist and folded them in front of him. “It’s no secret that you’re the Security Force’s champion on this board. But considering your former post with them, we should hardly be surprised, should we?”
“It’s been years since I served,” Aarla replied. “Sometimes, it seems like a lifetime ago.”
“Whatever else people might say about you though, you certainly never forgot where you started. Without your efforts, the Security Forces probably wouldn’t have had half the funding they’ve enjoyed over the years. And now thanks to you, they’ll be getting a substantial increase.”
Aarla nodded. “Times are changing, it would seem. I know that in the past you’ve been opposed to increasing the funding of the Security Forces. But let me assure you that the money won’t be wasted. I will see to that personally.”
Ellesby smiled thinly. “You don’t need to go for the hard sell now, Aarla. You’ve gotten what you wanted.” Then his smile faded. “Now you’d better produce some results. Never forget that with enough votes, anyone can be replaced, Commander.”
As much as Aarla wanted to reply in kind to Ellesby’s threat, words failed her. But even though her lips were silent, her glare spoke volumes. The old man responded with an ominous grin before he turned and left her standing alone at the front of the room.
Aarla stared daggers into Ellesby’s back until he reached the end of the corridor and turned out of her sight. She didn’t need to be reminded of how important capturing these fugitives was. She already had plenty of motivation to put an end to this situation. As she stood alone in the conference room, her mind drifted back to Ryan. His rejection was enough reason for her to want him dead. He had refused her offer of a position with The Company, which was a large enough sin. No one had ever done that before, but that she could have forgiven. But he had also refused her. No man refused her. For that sin, she would grant no absolution.
But at the same time, she had to admit that she was grateful to him. Rejections aside, he’d done her a great service without even knowing it. The incident at Beauregard was a practical demonstration of just how important the Security Force was to the Company. However reluctant the Old Men were to give them money, they’d agreed to it. She hadn’t been able to convince them to act with years of what-ifs. But now, the threat wasn’t hypothetical anymore. The enemy was flesh and blood now. Now, the enemy had a name and a face. This had the old men so worried that they were finally willing to put some of their resources into the fight. And she knew that they’d be generous for years to come simply as a result of this one incident. And it all happened because of Ryan.
She quietly hoped that Crim would be able to take him alive. Before she had him killed, she wanted to thank him.
CHAPTER TWO
Over time, gravity had pulled Asteroid XK-7 into a loose orbit around Cornelius on the outer rim of the Ulos system. For two bodies so close together, they couldn’t have been more different. Where Cornelius was giant, perfectly round, and vibrant, XK-7 was small, craggy, and lifeless. Where water and greenery could plainly be seen from space on the surface of Cornelius, XK-7 was dark, devoid of life, and littered with the abandoned equipment from a time when there were actually minerals worth digging for there. Once there had been deposits of gold, crylium, and even a small amount of chorian there. But XK-7 had been stripped bare from years of mining. Now it was just a dead rock floating in space.
Ryan stared disappointedly out the window at it. “Looks like they really mined this rock dry. It’s only half the size it was the last time I was out this way.”
“How long ago was that?” Janice asked from behind the controls.
“It must have been six months ago at least,” Ryan said. “There used to be a big facility out there. There were two fuel pads, a dormitory, and a PX. I used to come out here to get supplies for the camp on Augustine.”
“I don’t see a PX here now,” Marcus replied.
“There is nothing here from the look of it,” Mara chimed in.
“Well don’t get me wrong,” Ryan said. “This place was never the garden spot of the galaxy. But the last time I was here, the mine was up and running.”
“Well now it looks like they mined the crap out of it, got out, and left their old junk behind ‘em,” Marcus observed.
After she gave Marcus a sideways glance, Mara nodded at Ryan. “Apart from his phrasing, I must agree with Marcus. There seems to be nothing here but old rusted mining equipment.”
“I know it looks that way at first glance,” said Ryan. “But you never know. There might be something valuable, or at least useful, down there.”
Marcus didn’t look convinced. “So you’re sayin’ you still wanna go down there?”
Ryan gave him a questioning look. “I don’t have anything better to do today. Do you?”
Marcus sighed heavily. “No, but you know this is probably gonna be a waste of time.”
Ryan started walking towards the hold. “You could be right. But we came all this way. So let’s waste some time. I’ll prep the shuttle. You can get our suits ready.”
When Ryan was out of the room, Marcus rolled his eyes. “So let’s waste some time,” he said mockingly.
* * *
Vindicator had been without an infirmary until just recently. None of the crew was sure if the Delton engineers who designed it hadn’t included one, or if Tavion Karr had just decided to use the space for something else. None of them had ever been on an Onyx Class transport until Karr had “given” them this one, so they had no way of knowing which it was.
Karr had been an old acquaintance of Ryan’s, and he was the first person Ryan could think of to ask for help after they crashed on Beauregard. He agreed to give them the best ship he had, the Vindicator, in exchange for passage to Bernadea.
But soon after they left Beauregard, they began to experience power failures on the ship. Only later did they figure out that it was all a distraction by Karr to keep them near Beauregard until Commander Straker’s ship could get there and pick them up. Or pick them off.
They managed to fix the ship and escape in the end. But there were more than a few tense moments. After they got away from Beauregard, their first priority was to stock up on food and supplies. Doctor Pryce reasoned that with the credits Karr had stashed in every cubby hole on the ship, they could well afford to at least pick up some medical supplies at XK-7.
He was worried about stocking up the infirmary, because he didn’t feel he was equipped to handle the kinds of injuries he expected them to suffer. He had nothing to knit bones. Bullet wounds would be a big problem, he realized, because he’d forgotten to pack an extractor. He also noticed that his supplies of alcohol and disinfectant were running low.
He was confident that they’d get their supplies until he saw Ryan’s expression as he entered the cargo hold.
“Good morning Captain,” he said cheerfully. “At least I believe it’s morning.”
Ryan winced internally at the sound of someone calling him captain. “Hiya, Doc. How’s the infirmary coming along? Do you have enough space?”
Pryce motioned towards the storage room that Ryan had picked out for him in the back of the hold. Ryan had reasoned that it was close to where the shuttle was parked, so if they came back from somewhere with casualties, the Doctor would be right there when they landed.
“The space is fine. Janice and Marcus have been helping me to clear the space and set up my equipment. All that’s left is to stock it with supplies.”
Now Ryan was wincing on the outside. “Um… Yeah. About that.” He started walking towards the shuttle.
Pryce followed. “Well we’ll be at XK-7 soon, right? You said that they had a PX there, and that we’d be able to find the supplies I need. With the money we found, buying what we need shouldn’t be a problem.”
Ryan tapped the entry lock on the shuttle, and the door slid open.
“About XK-7. We’re here, actually. But there is a small problem.”
They entered the shuttle, and Ryan sat down in the pilot’s chair. Pryce stood behind him watching his hands moving at an impressive speed as he entered the startup codes on a small keypad above his head.
“A problem?” Pryce asked.
“Yeah. You see, XK-7’s a lot different now than the last time I was here.”
“Different?” The doctor looked confused. “Different how?”
Ryan sighed. “Well, it’s about half the size it used to be, the mining seems to have stopped, the PX is gone, and there doesn’t seem to be a living soul down there. Just a few tiny changes.”
Pryce nodded. The expression on his face wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic as it had been a few moments before. “Well, yes. That is different.”
“Marcus and I are going down there anyway. Maybe the Company left something useful behind when they went home. The place is pretty trashed, but you never know.”
Pryce’s eyes widened. “You’re actually going to pick through whatever it is they left down there? That sounds rather desperate. And a bit illegal.”
Ryan stopped pressing buttons and turned to face Pryce. “You’re right on both counts, Doc. But in case you haven’t noticed, we’re fugitives. We’re outlaws running on the fringes of the law. We do what we have to do and we keep moving.”
They heard clattering coming from the doorway of the shuttle, and turned to see Marcus climbing onto the shuttle dragging two spacesuits behind him.
“The suits are all ready,” he said. “Seals are tight. Pressure tests out okay, and the O2 is fully charged.”
“Good,” said Ryan. “The shuttle’s ready to go when we are. Are you ready?”
Marcus drew a deep sigh. “I’m about as ready as I’m gonna get. Never liked the space-walkin’ though. It’s a real pain in the ass.”
“Per aspera ad astra,” Pryce said.
Marcus furrowed his brow. “Aspra-what?”
“Per aspera ad astra,” Pryce repeated. “In the Latin, it means a rough road leads to the stars.”
Marcus did a double-take. “And just why in the hell are you talkin’ Latin at me?”
“It’s a good thing to know more than one language.” Pryce tapped a finger on his temple. “It broadens the mind. I believe it was Charlemagne who said that ‘to have another language is to possess a second soul.’”
Marcus scratched his head. “Charlie who?”
Pryce blinked at him incredulously. “Do you not know your history?”
Marcus stared at him blankly.
Pryce looked at Ryan, who grinningly put his hands up in front of his face. “Leave me out of this.”
With disappointment in his eyes, Pryce turned back to Marcus.
“Have you never heard of Charlemagne? The father of Europe? One of the greatest kings in the history of Old Earth?”
Marcus shook his head. “Nope. Never heard of him.”
Pryce shook his head as he exited the shuttle. “Philistine.”
Marcus grinned at his ability to annoy the doctor. “Nope. I don’t know Phil, either. He a king too?”
Pryce’s groan of frustration at his remark was the best sound Marcus Briggs had heard all day.
* * *
Aboard the cruiser Conquest, Commander Bannar Crim paced nervously in his quarters. President Aarla was awaiting a progress report on the search for the rogue spacecraft from the Beauregard incident nearly fourteen days ago. Until Fleet Commander Straker was finished escorting Tavion Karr to Dagmar Prison (and the proverbial dust had settled from Ryan’s escape), Crim was in charge of the fleet. The first assignment of his new command was to bring Jace Ryan to justice. The President had expressed a preference for him to be taken alive, saying something about wanting to see the look on his face when she had him killed. But if he felt the circumstances warranted, she had given him her blessing to kill Ryan himself.
Crim had taken up pacing in his quarters to calm his nerves, but so far it was having the opposite effect. He’d ordered a cup of tea from the galley, but he was so anxious he hadn’t touched it. He had to admit that he hadn’t felt the butterflies in his stomach like this on a mission in years.
He stopped pacing at the window of his quarters. He’d hoped that watching the stars go by would calm him, but the more he thought about his mission, the more uneasy he felt.
He hated making reports, especially when the news was bad, like it was now. The search thus far had failed to uncover the escaped prisoners, and the President had the reputation of not taking kindly to failure. She wanted Ryan and the others found, and she had made it clear to him at the beginning of his mission that time was a luxury he didn’t have.
At the beeping of his com-panel, he leapt at his desk as if he were a spring being uncoiled. He activated the viewer, and was greeted by the face of his second in command, Lieutenant Brell.
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“We are now in communication range of Corporate Headquarters, Sir,” the lieutenant said. “If the Commander wishes to make his report...”
“Open the channel,” Crim said. “I’m on my way.” He didn’t expect this encounter to go off smoothly. But, he thought sarcastically, this is the privilege of rank.
* * *
As he hurried through the corridors from his quarters to the bridge, he tried to speak to crewmen as he passed them in the corridors. His intention along the way was to reassure them. He wanted his presence to reassure them, so that they could see their commander was in charge. He wanted them to see him as a person, who acknowledged them and interacted with them. The end result however was a grumbled ‘crewman’ that apparently made them all uneasy, with the strong urge to clear out of the hallway.
Finally he gave up trying to speak altogether, and simply dodged the men as he passed them. The men saw him coming, and tried their hardest to be someplace else.
Crim, for his part, focused less on the men and more on his task. He’d briefed his superiors countless times in his career, but he’d never had to report directly to the President of the Board of Directors before.
Another ‘privilege of rank’ he thought to himself.
He tried to reassure himself as he watched the door to the bridge slide open in front of him. He straightened the jacket of his uniform and started through the door. When he stepped out onto the bridge, he was greeted by the image of President Aarla on the main viewer. This is just like any other report, he thought.
“Madam President,” he said, stiffly. He was hoping that he could camouflage the tension he felt with a healthy dose of military formality.
“Acting Fleet Commander Crim.” Aarla returned the formality, placing just enough emphasis on the word ‘acting’ to make her point painfully clear. This was a temporary assignment. If he caught the escaped prisoners, he might receive a lesser promotion when this chase was over. But if he failed to apprehend them, however, there was no telling which unlit corner of the backside of the galaxy he’d be shipped off to. “You have a report to deliver, I believe.”
“We have a total of fifty-two fighters and five command cruisers out looking for the Delton Onyx Class light cruiser reported in the Beauregard incident,” Crim reported.
“Have you had any progress?” Aarla’s eyes seemed to burrow into him and see through him as she waited impatiently for his answer.
“There has been no sign of the ship as yet, Madam President. However, all stations and outposts remain on full alert status. We expect to locate the target within a few hours.”
The president was non-plussed. “Find that ship, Commander Crim,” she said. “Otherwise you could find yourself captaining a cargo ship in the outer worlds.” Her voice was calm, but her glare conveyed her impatience quite vividly. “Are we clear?”
Crim tried to fortify himself before he spoke, and put the deepest command tone into his voice. “Very clear, Madam. We won’t rest until the ship is found.”
“See to it, commander,” she said unblinkingly. “The sooner the better.” Then, the transmission came to an abrupt end.
Crim sat down heavily in his command chair. He felt as though he had been full of water, and someone had just pulled the plug and let it all run out of him.
“Privilege of rank indeed,” he scoffed.
CHAPTER THREE
“Are you sure about usin’ the shuttle for this run?” Marcus asked as he strapped himself into the co-pilot’s chair. “We haven’t done a test run yet.”
“Well, we’ve got to try it out some time.” Ryan spread his arms out to his sides. “Welcome to the beta test,” he said dryly.
The shuttle’s engines, which had been emitting a low hum since they’d been started, came alive with a higher pitched whine. Ryan eased the control yoke back, and the shuttle gently lifted off the deck.
“So far, so good.” He touched the ‘transmit’ control on the shuttle’s radio. “All right, Janice. Open the doors.”
“Okay boys,” Janice replied over the com. “Good luck.”
With a thump, the hydraulics on the cargo bay doors engaged, and the doors slid apart. When they were fully opened, Ryan tapped the controls, and the shuttle backed out of the cargo bay. In seconds, Ryan eased the shuttle through the doors and out into space.
“All right, Vindicator. We’re clear of the doors.”
“Copy that, Ryan. Have fun down there.”
Ryan grinned. “You kids behave up there, and maybe we’ll bring you back something nice.”
“Maybe?” He could hear the humor in Janice’s voice. “You’re such a tease. Out.”
The com clicked off as Ryan and Marcus watched the cargo bay doors close.
“The shuttle seems to be running okay,” said Ryan. “Are you ready for this?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Marcus said impatiently. “Just get it over with.”
With a turn of the controls Ryan gently brought the shuttle about. With a push on the yoke, he started the shuttle on a slow descent towards the asteroid.
* * *
As Janice and Mara watched it on Vindicator’s viewscreen, the shuttle lowered in a graceful arc from Vindicator’s position and gently touched down on XK-7. Ryan seemed to time the firing of the thrusters perfectly. His steering was flawless. Janice considered herself to be an exceptional pilot, even to the point of being cocky about it. But she doubted if even she could have hit a smoother landing than the one Ryan had just done.
“Ryan’s a pretty good pilot,” she remarked. “That’s about the tightest landing I’ve ever seen.”
“Our friend Ryan seems to do a lot of things well,” Mara said. “He got us all out of the shuttle alive when it crashed. He got us a ship on Beauregard. He worked out how to fix the reactor after Karr sabotaged it. He and Marcus got us away from Straker’s ships.”
“Hey!” Janice looked hurt. “I remember the pilot helping out a little bit too.”
Mara nodded. “Yes. Of course, Janice. I meant no offense.”
Janice grinned slightly. “None taken. I get your point. It’s nice to have somebody around that you can count on. But just once I’d like to see him in a situation where he didn’t have all the answers. It’s annoying, him being right all the time.”
“You mean it would be nice if we had to save him for a change?”
“Yeah. For a change.” Janice was still grinning as she turned back to the viewer. “Change can be good.”
Warily, Mara turned back to watch the viewer.
* * *
Marcus grunted as he forced a muscular leg into his spacesuit. He’d been struggling with it for over ten minutes, and didn’t even have one leg in the suit to show for it. Even more annoying was that Ryan was having an easier time of pulling his suit on. In the time it was taking him to pull one leg of his suit on, Ryan was almost finished with his. When Marcus finally got the first leg in, he let out a frustrated sigh.
“I hate these damn things,” he complained. “They’re hot, you can’t move in ‘em because they’re so damned heavy, and they grab at you when you’re tryin’ to get ‘em on or off.”
Ryan sighed heavily. “Oh, man! You are such a killjoy! I know we’ve got a job to do, but we’re gonna walk in space! Isn’t there at least a small part of you that thinks this might be fun?”
Marcus gave him an incredulous look as he slid his other leg into the suit. “No.”
Ryan looked at him expectantly. “Really? You can’t think of anything else to say?”
“Let me think.” Marcus looked up and squinted as he mock-thought about it. “Oh, wait. I’ve got it. Hell no!” He gave Ryan a sarcastic look which seemed to shout ‘are you happy now?’
Ryan sighed and rolled his eyes. “You are a killjoy. Are you going to complain the whole time we’re down here?”
Marcus nodded forcefully. “You want me to stop complainin’? Get me back on the ship.” He struggled the rest of the way into the suit and emphatically slapped his helmet on.
Ryan stared at him in amusement. Marcus looked uncomfortable in the protective suit. He looked even more so when he realized Ryan was staring at him.
“What?”
Ryan shook his head and chuckled to himself as he put his helmet on and tapped the door control.
The shuttle door opened with a loud clank, and Ryan stepped out onto the surface. The weighted boots made moving a little harder than normal, but he adapted more quickly than he thought he would. He could feel the butterflies in his stomach as he took his first few steps across the rocky surface. Truthfully, the whole idea of walking around on an asteroid with only a thin layer of plastic keeping him from dying scared the hell out of him, but he wasn’t going to admit it out loud. Marcus was already complaining enough for both of them.