Proving True

Athena mutes the comm to deliver her report. “Based on the configuration and broadcast USC, Centurion is a 4,000 ton Heavy Cruiser. Typically, two hundred turrets, forty fighters and a spinal meson cannon.” No shit resistance is discouraged!

I signal Athena to open the comm channel. “Centurion, this is Captain Sonia MacTaggert, late of Gallagher currently in command of the recently abandoned Silver Saber. I’m sure your scans have revealed that any resistance we might offer would be ‘token’ at best. Had you arrived a handful of hours ago, we certainly could have used your help. Pure speculation on my part, but are you chasing the pirates that recently abandoned this ship? If so, I regret to inform you that they are gone to a destination unknown. We are prepared to receive you as visitors and guests, although I’ve precious little to offer in the way of hospitality. We will continue our recovery efforts until you board.”

There is a noticeable pause. “Captain MacTaggert, please stand by while I contact the commanders of the other two ships. That way, I need only say what I have to say one time. I’ll be with you again shortly.”

“Before you go, please note that the vessel drifting nearby is Gallagher and is currently unoccupied. As its Captain I can speak for it.”

“So noted. Please stand by.”

After a short silence, probably only a minute but it seems like hours. Athena reports, “Small vessels are departing from Centurion. It appears one is going to Gallagher, one to Oedipus, and the third to us.”

“Captain MacTaggert, Captain Rankin, I am Captain Kelvin Richards, executive officer of Centurion. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintances. My boarding parties are on their ways to Silver Saber, Gallagher and Oedipus. You are essentially correct: we are seeking one man. If he is not found aboard any of the three vessels in this area, we will render assistance as we are able. If we do find him then you will all—captains, officers, and crewmembers—be arrested, tried, convicted and executed for harboring a fugitive wanted for high treason against His Excellence, the Emperor Ramesis Jirrir. If you know the whereabouts of one ‘Grinning Jack Grangiere’ now is the last time to say so without penalty. I trust there are no questions?”

“None, Captain,” I say. “We welcome you aboard Silver Saber and Gallagher. And should that rat bastard be found aboard either Silver Saber or Gallagher it is without my knowledge or permission and there is a distinct probability I will kill him myself.”

“Likewise, Captain,” Rankin answers. “You are welcome aboard Oedipus.”

“Your cooperation is appreciated, Captains. So noted, Captain MacTaggert but please understand that would also be ill advised. His Excellence has stated that the fugitive shall stand trial. There are bounties on the rest of his crew, but he specifies alive, not dead. Captain Rankin, is it possible for you to travel to Silver Saber?”

“I’m sorry sir, but I must refuse. If you are going to send a contingent of soldiers to search my vessel, I will not leave it voluntarily. I trust you understand my point of view?”

“Indeed I do, sir,” Richards responds. “Perhaps afterwards then. Captain MacTaggert my cutter is moving towards Silver Saber. Be advised, Centurion’s weapon systems are active and you are being painted by targeting sensors. By now you have probably noted that our fighters have launched to provide security patrols.” I look to Athena; she nods as Captain Richards concludes. “Again, resistance is ill advised. Centurion out.”

I turn to Athena. “I’m going to the landing bay.”

“Captain, may I recommend—”

“You may not,” I interrupt, “I am aware that I may be walking into an ambush or a kidnapping attempt. But I also feel that I should welcome the detachment commander in person. And if I stop moving, I may in fact fall over. You have the bridge.”

In the landing bay, I watch as a 30-ton cutter makes its approach and comes to rest just outside Silver Saber. An umbilicus snakes forward and magLocks its anchors to the deck plates, a platoon of troopers emerges from the airlock on the near end of the umbilicus and takes up what is in essence a defensive perimeter, but these guys are armed to the teeth so it’s pretty offensive in nature. One trooper, taller than the others, steps forward. I’m holding my helmet under my left arm—the force field keeping the air inside the ship has accommodated the umbilicus—and extend my right hand. “Welcome aboard Silver Saber, I am Captain Sonia MacTaggert.”

The tall trooper removes his helmet and takes my hand. “Thank you, Captain. I am Captain Kelvin Richards, first officer of Centurion.” I thought Rankin was beautiful. Richards makes Rankin look like a rag doll. This man is absolutely gorgeous. He has piercing blue eyes, a flawless blonde coif—even after wearing a helmet—and his perfect teeth. I may have met the future Mr. Sonia MacTaggert!

“A moment please, Captain.” He gestures to the platoon of troopers with him. They break up into groups of four. Four of the groups leave the landing bay. The fifth begins an intensive search here. “Again, I appreciate your cooperation. I assure you, if we don’t find who we seek we’ll be gone as soon as possible.”

“I remember you said you’re searching for a tall, steaming pile of Rison shit who likes to call himself ‘Grinning Jack Grangiere.’ While he was in command of this ship, it appears he has escaped via a machine we believe to be a matter transporter. I’d be happy to take you to it. By the way, we’ve collected a fair share of wounded in the firefight between ships as well as the final assault on Gallagher. We’ve been moving them to the medical bay on this corsair. If you have any medical personnel you can spare us, I’d appreciate their help.”

“Of course, Captain. You had indicated as such. One of the teams that left here is all combat medics and went straight to your medical area. And you are quite correct. We are trailing Grinning Jack Grangiere. I hope—for your sakes—that if that supposed transporter does what you claim and that he has not secreted himself somewhere aboard. I remind you, if we find you are hiding or assisting him it will not go well for any of you. And I fervently hope he is not aboard because I would like to share a meal with you at some point. Alone.”

“Wow. It is a pleasure to meet you, Captain. I can’t prove that the matter transporter—if that’s what it is—does what I think it does, but that’s what fits the facts. Your offer is quite considerate, and you are very kind considering that I have a raging case of helmet hair and have spent several hours inside my armor…let’s just say I’d rather have a few hours or so to spruce up. That being the case, I must decline. I lost some very good people today and I just wouldn’t feel right dining in the lap of luxury while my crew is gnawing on barely warmed rations here. However, if you’d care to join us for a picnic of field rats and a bottle or six of Jack’s Atlantean Brandy you are more than welcome.”

Richards’ perCom chimes. He holds a finger up to me and presses the unit to his ear with the other hand and listens. He says, “Stand by,” and turns to me. “The people in the TMOD berths, are they yours? We’ll need to open the containers to scan them and verify they are not shape shifters and are what they present themselves to be.”

“I’d rather not wake them because right now they are not a threat of any kind. Nor are they a benefit, they are simply cargo. Once they wake, they have to be fed, led etc. etc and right now I just don’t have the energy or the resources. And before you protest, I won them fair and square by defeating the previous occupants of this vessel. Cecilia, whom you may have noticed, I think that’s her over there, says they are all dock workers shanghaied from Rigg’s Station. They either are or they aren’t. But right now, I just don’t care. I claim Schrödinger’s cat and all that stuff. If your scanner is as spiffy as it sounds, it should be able to read what it needs to see while they are torpid.”

He strokes his chin. “Okay,” he says apparently having reached a decision. “Three things, one) I will arrange a hot meal for your crew, two) if you have Atlantean brandy I’d be interested in buying as much as you’re willing to sell, and three) I’m afraid waking the sleepers was not a request. They will be roused. The hibernation process masks the genetic markers for shape shifters.” He presses his perCom close and receives the remainder of his report. He breaks the connection, turns to me and says. “Oedipus and Gallagher do not contain Grinning Jack Grangiere, as expected.” He looks at the deck then directs his attention back to me. “If you will excuse me, I shall direct my galley to provide sustenance for your crew.”

“That’s very generous of you, Captain,” I say. “They will find members of Oedipus in the galley. Please direct them to fall in on them.”

“That being the case, I’ll have the meal prepared on Centurion and shuttled over,” without waiting for a response he steps away to accept another report.

Jenkins sends me a situation report. Mechanics and robots are patching hull breaches and he expects to pressurize the entire vessel within six hours. He also tells me the central computer is booting up. Shawna has sauntered into the shuttle bay and stops by my side as Captain Richards turns back to me. “The meal will be delivered in about…” his eyes are locked onto Shawna’s. “Captain MacTaggert, please introduce me to the vision standing to your immediate left.”

Oh brother, here we go again! “Kelvin, this is Lieutenant Shawna Landers, my chief pilot. Shawna, this is Captain Kelvin Richards, executive officer of Centurion.”

Richards sticks out his hand to shake Shawna’s but she isn’t having it. She gently pushes his hand to one side, moves in close and—standing on her tiptoes—kisses him on both cheeks. Then a third time right on his lips. Got him.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Lieutenant.” A tinge of color reaches his cheeks.

“The pleasure is all mine, Captain.”

This is an excellent opportunity to pass on a potential problem. “Thanks for the dinner, Cap’n. And when we transfer the TMOD personnel to Centurion, I’ll be sure to send a case of that brandy with them. Since you’re so eager to take them off my hands and out of my hair, it’s the least I can do. Will they be going on this shuttle or another?” I remember a class in which the professor said if you’re trying to convince someone to do something they don’t want to, let them choose from options you choose for them. I understand salespeople use it all the time.

He’s talking to me, but staring at her. “That’s not what I offered, Captain, but it sounds like a good idea. With the understanding that if any of them want to stay with you after we scan them, I’ll honor such a request. Lieutenant, can I interest you in being my guest aboard Centurion this evening?” I could stand naked and juggle cats in front of him, he wouldn’t notice. I start to explain I have other things to do, but neither of them is listening to me anymore. I just leave and go back to the bridge.

On my way, a very distinct tummy grumble convinces me that if the Captains Marvelous are going to all the trouble to prepare dinner for my crew, the least I can do is eat it before showing up to stand my watch. I notify Athena of my plans, she not only endorses them she recommends that I retire for the evening afterwards. When I think about how much has happened since I crawled out of my bed, I have to agree that she has the better idea.

In the chow hall I sit with the engineers who are there and try to get the real report on what still needs to be done. They are refreshingly honest and forthright about the level of damage left. The visitors even more so and I can only guess it’s because they don’t know I’m the captain. While the previous occupants did apparently have a whirling dervish go through the ship with a scimitar in each hand, most of the damage seems to be more aesthetic than functional. At least I can lay my head down with some degree of comfort.

It comes as no surprise to me that the Captain’s Quarters on this tub are quite lavish. Grinning Jack appears to value his creature comforts. Even so, I change the linen and flip the mattress. To not do so having heard some of his plans just sounds…icky.

The following morning Shawna and Captain Richards join me for breakfast. Over coffee, I ask Kelvin, “So, did you find any shape shifters among the TMOD folk? Thanks for taking them on, by the way. If you have any plans to stop at Rigg’s Station I’m sure they would be grateful for working passage.”

“No doubt,” he says. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid we don’t. As our search aboard these three ships for that pirate was fruitless, we’ll be moving on. Incidentally, if you can see your way clear to allowing Lieutenant Landers to hire on with Centurion, we would be very grateful. I hear she’s a fantastic pilot and we can definitely use her.”

I look over to Shawna. She’s leaning on the table with her own coffee cup between her hands. She’s smiling but with the fingers of her left hand she makes the hand sign Freddie taught us as a duress code back on Night Searcher. She doesn’t want to go with him, but she wants me to be the breaker of bad news. Okay.

“She is indeed a gifted pilot, Captain Richards. Unfortunately her contract is not with me, but the Malneer Corporation. I couldn’t allow her to go with you even if I wanted to. Which I don’t, as to date she’s done a great job for me. Hells, I don’t think I can even fire her. I believe I’m required to TMOD her if she becomes unbearable.”

“Well, we don’t want that now, do we?” he grins around his coffee cup. “My commander has tasked me to ask you what your plans are and to remind you that if at a future time you should ally yourself with the pirate Grangiere you will be considered an enemy of the empire and will be hunted down etc. etc.”

“The question about my plans is not unreasonable, but the possibility of my allying myself in any way at all with that…that…I can’t think of a suitable comparison that wouldn’t be horrifically insulting to the object! Please assure your commander, Captain that the Queen of Atlas will be a man before I call Grinning Jack Grangiere a friend. Beyond that, although we’ve suffered some setbacks, my mission is unchanged. We will stay here and study this planet to the best of our ability. And to play a card from your deck, if you have any personnel, particularly fighter pilots with ships, that can in a pinch be called upon to act as infantrymen, they are welcome to stay.”

“I will pass that on, Captain. But just like your arrangement with the Malneer Corporation, the crew and materiel of Centurion serve at the pleasure of the Emperor and we would need his permission in order to affect such a transfer. So, it appears I’ve nothing to do other than return to my ship. We will depart for Tamris V in twelve hours. We believe that’s where the pirate will make for next. Should you come across him and can take him alive; the bounty on him is currently two hundred million credits. Food for thought, I’m sure. Please excuse me, ladies.” He sets his coffee cup down and turns to the kitchen to talk with his staff there. “Oh, before I go,” he turns back. “The armor I’ve seen your troopers in, it looks like some pretty new gear. Might you have any spare sets for sale?”

“I’m sorry,” I say, my fingers crossed under the table. “It’s a proprietary design. The rights are currently held by the Malneer Corporation as well.”

“I lose nothing by asking, thank you again and have a great journey.” He continues his walk to the kitchen.

Shawna is still sitting so she must have more to say and is waiting for him to leave. Fair enough, but I’m not sitting here idly while she dithers. I open my perCom and log into the CasCom page for a status update. Two turrets, one dorsal and one ventral, have been fitted with meson cannons. The other two will keep the missile launchers. I put a note on my to do list to ask from whence the meson cannons came. But I give it a low priority. The hull breaches are sealed and we have had the ship completely pressurized for six hours. Good news indeed. I send a message to Jenkins:

Now that pressure is sustained in Silver Saber I want you to take some down time. Six hours, minimum. Go down to the beach, work on your tan, empty a bottle of that brandy. You’ve earned it. But before you do, check with that new mechanic, Cecilia. Find out if she wants to stay with us or join her friends on Centurion. They’re leaving in twelve hours, so she needs to make up her mind.

Shawna hasn’t moved. I can wait as long as she can. I call Athena. “Have all of the scientific gear that still functions transferred from Gallagher to the outpost please. And did we lose any scientists in all the shooting?”

“I will see to it, ma’am. Three of the scientists that were aboard during the attack on Gallagher were injured, none fatally. I have not received any report of casualties from the outpost. We did lose four troopers.”

“Understood, we’ll do the memorial ceremony for them after Centurion leaves. Lieutenant Landers is heading that effort. It should be, in my rarely humble opinion, a private matter.”

Athena surprises me. “SLAP.”

I’m all but speechless. “MacTaggert out.”

I have a reply from Jenkins.

Cecilia says she’d like to stay. I have her working on the engine support systems. Deck B forward, in particular. Of the others that were TMODed, two of them asked to stay. A Mark Hansen who is a general laborer and Betty Krill, she’s signed on as a laborer but claims she cooks and has general admin skills as well. I figured we could use them so I granted their request. I did notify the XO, for the record. And thanks for the day pass. Any gods above, below, or to the right know I could use it.

Richards must have left while I was dealing with ship matters, when I put my perCom in my pocket Shawna says, “Thanks, that was pretty quick thinking about being contracted to the Malneer Corporation.”

“You’re welcome but it wasn’t that much of a stretch. You are under contract to Star Chaser but I figured if he wanted you bad enough he could destroy Star Chaser and then take you. That’s bad for business.”

“I’m with you there. Can you believe that joker proposed to me? After one night?”

“Isn’t your record something like six hours?”

“Well, yes, but that guy was off his meds. Kel is an officer. I’d think he would know better than to do something silly like that. I’m pretty sure that at some point in his career he’s had opportunity to warn his charges not to do what he did.”

“Never underestimate the seductive power of beauty, dexterity, and intelligence when mixed in the proper proportions.”

“Amen on that.”