Buccaneers (Privateer Tales Book 8) Read online

  "Take the helm?" I asked.

  "Of course."

  I got up and walked back to Jake. "I know you're already thinking about this, but you probably have a better chance than any of us at figuring out what happened. Any ideas?"

  "TransLoc engines are simple. They rely on a high energy pulse transmitted through a resonating crystal. Failure is extraordinarily rare. The fuel is expensive, but again not complex. I wish I could crack that data burst from the Cape. I'd bet anything they sent a diagnostic of the engines and critical systems. It'd tell us a lot," he said.

  "Any chance you can open it?" I asked.

  "Probably not, but I'll try. Those Oberrhein are bastards," he said.

  "Let me know if you need anything," I said.

  ***

  "Incoming communication, Belirand Terminal Six," my AI informed me.

  I'd been dozing in the pilot's chair, unwilling to leave the bridge of Sterra's Gift just in case something changed. We'd been sailing for just under fifty-two hours and were within fifteen minutes of arriving in the Tipperary system.

  "I've got it, Lena," I said, trying to regain my alertness.

  Open comm with all ships. "Go ahead, Belirand," I replied.

  The flickering image of a dark skinned man, with graying hair appeared in front of me. Even as close as we were, I couldn't imagine how they were getting a signal to us. Fifteen minutes in fold-space could put us just about anywhere.

  "Captain Hoffen. Station Administrator Atin Emre. We've received a comm via Mars Protectorate that there's been a mishap and we're unable to raise Cape of Good Hope. Please advise," he said. At least that's what my AI thought he said. His image flickered and jumped as the AI fought to smooth it out.

  I'd been practicing what to say if asked. "I regret to inform you that crew of Cape of Good Hope, including Captain LeGrande, has been lost. In short, the ship exited the fold-space bubble and was destroyed."

  "Were any other ships involved?" he asked.

  I wasn't sure what he meant by involved, so I decided to tell him what I knew without embellishment.

  "No other ships were damaged. We have done all possible analysis and can find no cause. Captain LeGrande was able to send a data-burst. We'll start transmitting now, along with our own sensor logs," I said.

  "Very well. We're requesting that all ships involved submit to a voluntary quarantine upon arrival until we are able to make a determination as to cause," he said.

  "Roger, wilco. Hoffen out."

  Marny, Nick and I had talked at length about how Belirand was likely to approach the situation. We had no doubt their requests would turn into demands in short order if we weren't compliant. And to be honest, we wanted to know what had happened as much as they did.

  What was different, however, was the complement of two heavy cruisers. These cruisers weighed in at eight hundred tonnes each and stretched seventy meters. In the continuum of ships, they were halfway between a frigate and a corvette. Or more immediately important, two and a half times the size of Hotspur. I was glad we'd left the turrets locked down.

  Incoming communication, Belirand Terminal Six.

  "Hotspur, Liam Hoffen," I said.

  "Captain Hoffen, Atin Emre. We're enforcing a communication blackout and request that you accompany the Belirand fleet to a holding area," he said.

  "I understand. If this is voluntary, why the blackout?" I asked.

  "We haven't ruled out an act of aggression. Our team is working diligently to piece together a timeline of the events leading to the destruction of Cape of Good Hope. Surely you understand," he said.

  "I do and we'll comply. Can you provide an estimate on how long we'll be in quarantine?" I asked.

  "Twenty-four hours and we'll have you on your way," he said.

  "Hey, Liam. I think I have something," Jake said, not on the comm.

  "Mr. Emre, could you hold a moment?" I asked. "We might have information relevant to your investigation."

  "Of course," he answered.

  Celina followed me back to the crew station where Jake was displaying the starboard TransLoc engine of Cape of Good Hope.

  Transmit engineering station holo to Atin Emre.

  "Are you seeing this, Mr. Emre?" I asked.

  "I am, Captain."

  "With me is Jacob Berandor. He's a graduate student from Mars Puskar University and has detailed understanding of starship engine technology," I said. "Jake, what do you have?"

  "Our sensors did not have a clear view of the starboard engine for most of the time leading up to our line up on the tarmac. I was, however, able to find where we had a brief moment of visibility. I'd like to draw your attention to the highlighted region."

  Jake sounded like he was instructing a class. The area he'd highlighted looked the same as everything else around it.

  "I'm not seeing it, Jake," I said.

  "I didn't either, at first. It's subtle," Jake said. "There are fine particles, almost a mist, inside the TransLoc engine. I'm going to expand them ten times for clarity."

  A cloud of particles became evident as soon as they were blown up.

  "What would cause that?" I asked.

  "Nothing legitimate. To the best of my understanding it is foreign material, unless some part of the engine had been atomized. I believe that the engineers in charge of the investigation could combine this information with data from Cape of Good Hope. Anything capable of creating this cloud should have been a recorded event. I've included the time codes in this transmission for that purpose," he said.

  "Thank you, Mr. Berandor, I'll see that this information is reviewed," Atin Emre said.

  "Jake, anything else?" I asked.

  "I'd like to volunteer my services to help with the investigation. I understand that we're under suspicion, but if you keep me confined and just give me a copy of the data, I might be able to help," Jake said.

  "Thank you for your offer. We'll get back to you if we decide to take you up on that. Belirand Terminal Six out." Emre closed the channel.

  "Nice work, Jake. Any theories?" I asked.

  "Simplest answer is an energy weapon that damaged a part of the engine. Problem is, Belirand and everyone else should have picked up on that," he said.

  "Even if it was small and focused?"

  "I cross-referenced every material, including the fuel, in that engine and calculated the energy required to cause a reaction that could result in that cloud. Not possible. If we eliminate engine malfunction, my best guess is that the particles were added directly," he said.

  "How would you do that?"

  "Not hard at all. You'd need to have some sort of launch tube and a low velocity accelerant. A puff of air would be enough if there was enough time. Let's say the payload could cause a failure in the engine by simply being there," he said.

  "So you just need a material that would do that," I said.

  "Magnetized iron - maybe twenty grams."

  "Impossible to prove. No sensor would catch twenty grams of tiny iron particles," Celina said what we were all thinking.

  "Incoming hail, Heavy Cruiser Panama."

  Open comm. "Hoffen, here," I said.

  "Captain Hoffen, if you'll accompany us to the quarantine zone." A uniformed Belirand officer appeared on the holo.

  "Roger that," I replied and closed the comm.

  A navigation path directed us to a location ten thousand kilometers from the station. I engaged the auto pilot.

  "Why don't you guys get some rack time," I said to Celina and Jake. They'd both been spelling me on the bridge. We were all exhausted, but I would be happy to pass out in my chair. They both left without saying much. It had been a difficult couple of days.

  I awoke after sleeping for twelve hours straight. If I hadn't needed to use the head so badly, I might have slept even longer. I set a pot of coffee to brew and waited for it to finish while standing in the small galley. The smell of the coffee brewing triggered memories of long flights on Sterra's Gift. I felt nostalgic, knowing that
we'd outgrown her, but also knowing she'd been the ship that had started it all.

  I tipped my head forward, a signal my AI had learned meant I wanted to call up my comm queue. A moderate priority comm was waiting from Belirand.

  Captain Hoffen. We'd like to invite you and your command crew to join us on station as soon as you are available. We've lifted the communications blackout and have assigned slips for your ships.

  Best Regards - Atin Emre.

  I wondered if Tabby had already received the same message. I thumbed my ring. When she didn't immediately respond I realized she was probably still asleep. I wondered how much sleep she'd gotten in fold-space.

  I pulled the coffee out before it finished brewing and poured a cup. I grabbed a meal bar and sent a low priority ping to the Adela Chen and Hotspur to let them know I was up and moving around. On the way to the bridge I received ping backs from Marny and Ada.

  Open comm, Ada, Marny. Forward message from Belirand.

  "Good morning, sunshine," Marny quipped.

  "Good morning," Ada responded. I looked at the time. It was 1400 but I decided not to point out their error.

  "I'll get on it right now and bring her in to the terminal," Ada said.

  "Marny, do you feel comfortable bringing Hotspur in?" I asked.

  "Aye, Cap. I'm not just pretty," she said. I smiled involuntarily. I couldn't imagine better companions than her and Ada.

  "I'd like to take you both with Nick and Tabby to meet Belirand. It sounds like they've cleared us," I said.

  "Aye. The Belirand cruisers pushed off a couple of hours back and we're all quiet here. Once we get underway that will change. The kids were pretty wired up when we arrived and it took some doing to get 'em settled down," Marny said.

  I grabbed the flight stick and throttled up to accompany the Adela Chen. While she was mating the tug to the barge she would be most vulnerable. Belirand had let us know that at ten thousand kilometers they had complete control, but my confidence was shaken.

  By the time I arrived, Ada had slipped from the harness and was in the process of connecting to the long tongue of the barge. I stood off two kilometers to give her plenty of room to work.

  "All ready," she said cheerily.

  "See you at the terminal," I said.

  My job of docking was considerably easier than Ada's. I didn't envy her the task of orienting the four hundred meter long barge with the bottom of the V-shaped TransLoc terminal. With that much length, the task was all about planning and small adjustments. I was envious of how easily she executed the maneuver.

  I felt a familiar pulse from my ring. Tabby was up. No doubt the ship's movement had awakened her. We'd been apart for less than a week, but I'd grown accustomed to waking up next to her and I missed her. I thumbed my ring.

  "What's the word?" Jake asked as he entered the bridge.

  "They're not saying much, but they've lifted the blackout and we're no longer quarantined," I said.

  "I didn't get any messages. I'm surprised they didn't want some help with analyzing that data," he said.

  "Feels like every other corporation I've been around. They don't trust anyone but themselves. There's fresh coffee in the galley," I said.

  "Cap, we're all up over here," Marny said. "You could schedule that meeting anytime you'd like."

  "Thanks, Marny," I said.

  I sent a comm to Atin Emre. He must have already known we'd arrived and immediately responded, requesting our presence. I forwarded his request and proposed that we meet in the concourse outside of the Hotspur.

  "Pete's got watch while we're on station," Marny said when I approached.

  "Great," I said.

  I hugged Tabby and we walked down the corridor hand-in-hand. Terminal Six in Tipperary was almost identical to the other five we'd visited. The embedded vid-screens greeted us as normal travelers. They seemed oblivious to our meeting, but instead bragged about the amenities of the station.

  We finally arrived on the administrative level. It was impressively appointed, with real wood paneling and railings. Elaborate vid screens displayed scenes from the habitable worlds of the solar system. The scene that caught my attention was of a crystal clear blue lake surrounded by a lush forest.

  "Those are live feeds from Tipperary planets and moons." I recognized the voice and turned to see Atin Emre emerge from a doorway and enter the reception area in which we stood. "As you are probably aware, Tipperary is a more verdant system than even Sol, if you count habitable planets and moons. You're looking at Curie's beautiful tropical oasis. In its natural state, it was the most similar environment to Earth that's ever been discovered."

  Atin Emre was shorter than I'd expected, but he radiated confidence, similar to Commander Sterra of Mars Protectorate. He was dressed in a stylized business suit that I suspected was actually a vac-suit, although considerably more expensive than anything I could afford to wear.

  "I've taken the liberty of setting out some food. I wasn't sure what schedule you're on, but the fruits of Curie are considered a delicacy at any time."

  We followed him into a room with a beautiful view of the unfamiliar star field. An oval table made of a rich brown highly polished wood, big enough to seat at least ten, occupied the center of the room. A side table, covered by white cloth, held an impressive display of fruits, rolls, juice and coffee.

  "Please make yourself at home," he said and poured himself a glass of an amber colored juice.

  I made a small plate and sat.

  "Mr. Emre. Were you able to discern what happened to Cape of Good Hope?" I asked.

  He sighed lightly and grew serious. "In short, no. We have many facts, but are short on conclusions. You must thank Mr. Berandor for his insight. We believe it was a freak accident. Our best guess is that at exactly the wrong moment a piece of space debris, moving at an extreme velocity, punctured the engine and ultimately rendered it inoperable."

  "Wouldn't the Captain have received a warning about that?" I asked. It sounded like a stupid conclusion to me.

  "Perhaps, but unfortunately that information wasn't part of the logged data," he said. "We are closing the matter unless new information is presented."

  I was shocked. Forty-five people had died and they'd looked into it for all of ten hours. My face must have conveyed my feelings.

  "Before you ask, Captain, I understand your feelings. The death of those crew members was tragic. We don't have reliable information that supports any other theory," he said.

  "What about sabotage?" I asked.

  "We've explored that with a dozen investigators in three systems poring over this data. Regardless, this is an interior matter for Belirand. The reason I requested your presence is to thank you for risking yourselves to provide aid to Cape of Good Hope. While your actions were ultimately unsuccessful, your willingness to risk your own ship and crew were most appreciated. We, at Belirand, thank you."

  Dramatically, he held his right hand over his heart and bowed his head. To say that I felt uncomfortable was an understatement. Especially as he held the pose for at least thirty seconds. I didn't know if I was supposed to say something or what. Finally, he lifted his head and looked around the table.

  "As to the expedition, we've already sent the first two rafts of ships on to Descartes," he said.

  "What of Karelia?" I asked.

  "Ah, yes, I had heard something about a conflict between your organizations," he said. "How may I help?"

  Tabby couldn't hold back. "You don't think they had something to do with this?"

  "I see. We had hoped that you'd put the incident in Sol behind you, but I can see that is still a sore spot. To answer your question, no, we don't believe the Karelia was involved in this tragic accident. Further, your questions border on libel, I would guard against making baseless accusations."

  Emre's features hardened, conveying a sense of displeasure and annoyance.

  He was right. There was nothing to be gained by accusing Oberrhein of something we couldn't prov
e. Tabby needed to back down. "We're just anxious to help as much as we can and get on with our journey," I said.

  He smiled broadly. "Understandable. As a token of our appreciation, I've sent a couple of crates of Curie fruit to each of your ships. We are deeply grateful for your assistance in these tragic events. With that out of the way, I know that my brother, J.T., is looking forward to your participation in the construction of Terminal Seven," he said.

  "How far behind the rest of the expedition are we?" I asked.

  "Ah, yes." He averted his eyes so he wasn't looking directly at me. "They departed five hours ago under the protection of the Karelia and her twin cruiser Kordun."

  "Protection? Where did the Kordun come from?" I asked.

  A bead of sweat formed on his head and dripped down. "It hails from Grünholz."

  "Our agreement was that security was to be provided by Belirand," I said.

  "It was to be the duty of Cape of Good Hope to provide secure passage and occasional patrols. I've subcontracted this responsibility to Petar Kiirilov's fief within the Oberrhein nation, an action which is completely within my purview."

  I shook my head in dismay. "You can't be serious. This is the same Karelia who refused to assist Cape of Good Hope when they most needed it. Mr. Emre, I hope you haven't jeopardized this entire expedition."

  "There's no reason for talk like that. Belirand Security exonerated Oberrhein from all wrongdoing. And let me set you straight. You're in the Tipperary system now and things might run differently than you expect. Belirand is your only link back to Sol. If we see fit to hire Oberrhein for security, you'll need to learn how to live with it."

  "And if I can't?"

  "Check your contract, Mr. Hoffen. You'll owe Belirand half a million Mars Credits. And you'll not be using my gate to return home," he said.

  "Your gate?"

  "Yes, Mr. Hoffen. The security of Terminal Six is my responsibility. And I alone decide which ships utilize it."

  "I see."

  "I'm glad we were able to have this conversation and we're looking forward to working with you to build the future of Belirand. I trust we'll have no further problems," he said.