Corsair Menace (Privateer Tales Book 12) Page 15

  "Damn. Probably shouldn't tell Mom yet."

  "Jonathan has been in brief communication — enough to let me know they're alive, but not enough to get a lock on them."

  "Sendrei too? Are they looking for extraction?"

  "The message is too short to know of your missing friend,” Anino said. “Extraction is impossible. We have no idea where the cruiser traveled after encountering Gaylon Brighton."

  "Why did Jonathan do this? Why would they jump on that ship?"

  "They want to see the Kroerak defeated," Anino said.

  "Why? Kroerak aren't hunting them. Why do they care so much about humanity?"

  "I don't know," Anino said. "All I know is that without them, I'd never have uncovered what Belirand was up to. Without Jonathan, the Kroerak invasion of Sol would have ended much differently."

  “I believe that.”

  Mom, Ada, and Katherine LeGrande appeared from the other end of the hallway. An excited hoot from Jester Ripples warned that he’d caught sight of Ada and suddenly the stream of bouncing Norigans raced toward the women.

  “What can you tell me about that cruiser?” Anino changed subjects.

  “House Gundi has the site where it was buried locked down tight,” I said. “Do you have this?” I flicked him the network of tunnels we’d mapped out.

  “No. Abasi aren’t releasing details until they’ve completed their investigation. Understandable. They’re embarrassed to discover they’ve had Kroerak sitting there for so long.”

  “Liam, there’s plenty of time to talk,” Mom interrupted. “Katherine has a nice reception waiting for us in the commons.”

  “Copy that,” I said. “Lead the way.”

  It had been more than a year since I’d seen Petersburg Station, but what I saw now could have been a completely different station. The hallway was standard station build, although it bore a fresh coat of paint and showed a fantastic view of space. In our current orientation, we had a glimpse of Zuri if you stood close enough to the glass that started about chest height and extended into the ceiling.

  “How many decks?” I asked as Ortel Licht fell in step next to me.

  “Plans are for twenty. We have five functional decks: Command, Engineering, Village-One, Promenade and Bio Recovery.”

  “Village-one?”

  “Living quarters. We were working on opening that up to the promenade so we could have a waterfall all the way down to bio recovery,” he said. “We have permanent housing for eighty families and can run temporary for almost a thousand. Of course, coming to Zuri shifted some of our priorities.”

  “What’s on the promenade?” Tabby picked Milenette up. The little girl was having trouble keeping up with her brother, Priloe.

  “You’ll see soon enough,” Ortel said. “That’s where this jetway exits.”

  I’d asked enough questions about the station that my AI had reached out and successfully downloaded a deck layout for the station. The promenade was a recreation level that included a running track, pod-ball court, workout facilities, meeting rooms and a thirty by forty-meter food court. The deck was irregularly shaped, two hundred meters wide and four hundred meters long at its maximum dimensions. While it was by far the largest of the five decks, it also had significant room for expansion.

  The promenade was, if anything, more impressive in person than on the layout. The sheer openness of the space was incredible. Bright lights shining from the ceiling offered the same temperature as that of Earth’s sun and I blinked in its brilliance. Zuri’s sun was yellower and farther away. A stream of water rushed over rocks and pooled into a pond located in the center of the promenade, its humid and brightly lit environment offering a perfect home for plant life.

  “Waterfall?” I asked, feeling Ortel’s gaze on me as I took it all in. Every space station added bio diversity and it was often cleverly implemented to add artistic interest. Colony-40, where I’d grown up, had been required to import all its bio mass over long distances when it had been founded. As a result, they’d relied on easily reproducible, simple plants that had little aesthetic value. Petersburg Station had been in orbit above a planet where trips to the surface were common and they’d taken good advantage of the opportunity. A wide variety of plants grew all over the lush surfaces.

  “Over time, that entire shelf next to the pond will be removed,” Ortel said, gesturing to a rocky area. “We have a small capture pond on Village-One that will drain into Bio Recovery. It’s dry right now. We still need to remove thirty thousand meters of material.”

  “How did you get all this cleared?” I asked.

  “We worked at it for a long time,” Ortel said. “Amon is a machine. He just keeps working.”

  The sound of splashing caught my attention as the horde of Norigans raced into the promenade’s water feature.

  “Whoa. Hold on there,” I said, caught off-guard. It was considered bad station etiquette to mess with biological matter.

  “A most reasonable response, Liam Hoffen,” Jester Ripples said, gently grabbing my arm as I moved to intercept the aliens.

  I tried to free myself. “I have to stop them.”

  “If you observe carefully, you will recognize we cause no damage to the station’s flora. We nurture the habitat of our home world.”

  It was hard for me to take my eyes off the Norigans as we continued around the outside of the promenade. The preservation of station resources had been drilled into me so hard. I was sure they were causing trouble, but not once did I see a single, wide, fuzzy foot land on a plant.

  “Welcome to Petersburg!” Katherine LeGrande said as we rounded a rocky corner into the main courtyard. Round tables had been set up, each boasting a colorful umbrella to shade the table’s occupants from the station’s bright lights. The word ‘WELCOME’ was displayed on the wall above a food-service booth set into the wall.

  “What’s this floor surface?” I asked as we crossed to the tables.

  “Something your mom came up with,” Ortel said. “She had Merrie design and create a bot that grinds and polishes the rock so it looks like slate tile. Seems like a lot of work to me, but everyone likes it.”

  “It really dresses up the space,” Ada said, passing us.

  Just as Mom said, Katherine had organized a welcome party. An array of baked rolls and pastries awaited our group and, more importantly, just as Marny promised, a carafe sat on one end.

  “Is this coffee?” I asked, stepping up next to LeGrande.

  She smiled. “You are a spacer at heart, Captain Hoffen. On a table filled with delectable treats, you orient on the coffee. This is my very own roast from seeds I received from Earth.”

  “Is there enough that I could try some?”

  “That’s why it is on the table, Captain. I understand you might have a contact on Zuri who could plant a hillside. Is that true?” LeGrande asked.

  “I will make it my life’s mission,” I said.

  She smiled conspiratorially at me. “Then I believe we shall be great business partners. We will hook the denizens of this great galaxy on our evil brew and control the spice.”

  I laughed and gave her an amiable hug, accepting a steaming cup from her. “I like the way you think.” I took a sip, closing my eyes as the hot liquid washed over my taste buds. “Oh … that’s delicious.” Instead of the synth-coffee’s signature bitter aftertaste, Katherine’s coffee tasted of pure, quality beans.

  “We’ll dominate,” she said.

  “No doubt about it.”

  “Do you mind if I borrow the captain?” Anino asked, interrupting.

  “Of course, Mr. Anino,” Katherine said, obviously intimidated by the powerful man, though he wore a teenager’s body.

  “Mars Protectorate is concerned,” Anino said. “The three ships that disappeared were in Nijjar controlled space.”

  “Pogona?” I asked, recognizing the name of the dominant Pogona government.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think the Pogona have a relationship wit
h Kroerak?” I asked.

  Anino flicked a data-stream at me and my HUD showed the last moments of a Mars Protectorate ship receiving fire from a Kroerak vessel. The stream paused and a ship that was clearly not Kroerak was highlighted. The ship was well within firing range of the Kroerak vessel, but under no obvious duress.

  “That ship, Feskilra, sails under a Strix flag,” Anino said.

  “You’re saying Strix are in bed with Kroerak?”

  “We don’t know,” Anino said. “And you need to keep that information in confidence.”

  “Strix being Kroerak puppets would explain some things,” I said.

  “That is a lot to infer from a single image,” Anino said. “Per conversations with Abasi, Strix have multiple factions and it would be dangerous to paint the entire species with such a broad brush.”

  “Yeah, good point,” I said, not interested in getting into it further. “Are all the upgrades to Petersburg your doing?” I asked.

  “I like to think that I merely accelerated the work Silver and Katherine were already accomplishing,” he said. “I have an excess of capital and simply gave them a nudge.”

  “Your nudges typically put my crew in danger,” I said.

  “And yet, you have a remarkable capacity to squeeze out of dangerous spots, my friend,” Anino said.

  It wasn’t lost on me that Nick was quietly listening to the exchange.

  “How do we find Jonathan?”

  “I think the Kroerak ship is damaged. I also think it's working its way through Nijjar controlled space to the Dark Frontier.” Anino placed a small device on the table and a holographic image of a galaxy appeared.

  “This is Dwingeloo,” he said, cupping his hands and squeezing the galaxy to the size of a person’s head. He then pulled at it. As he stretched it out, faint lines appeared, connecting solar systems.

  “We’re here.” He pointed to the Santaloo solar system. “Dark Frontier is considered anything past this system, here — Tanwar.”

  “So why don’t you tell Mars Protectorate or the Abasi? Surely, they’re much better equipped to handle this than we are,” I said.

  “Believe me, Mars Protectorate is ready to go in guns-a-blazing, but that won’t work. They don’t have a large enough force and there’s no way Nijjar government is going to allow a human fleet to traipse through their systems. The fact is, we need a crew that doesn’t draw attention and we need that crew near the Dark Frontier so we can act if Jonathan does get a message out.”

  I shook my head, finally catching up. “Like the crew of a well-armed freighter that just happens to be in the area?” I asked.

  “Just like that,” Anino agreed.

  “We can’t take Tuuq, it has no teeth. And it’ll take months before Intrepid is ready to sail.”

  “Right. If only you had an entire crew of the finest engineers in the galaxy available,” Anino said, looking out to the pond where the gaggle of Norigans splashed about playfully.

  “Remind me to never play chess with you, Anino.”

  Chapter 12

  Crappy Moments

  “Will you look for him?” Flaer asked, greeting Tabby and me at the entrance to Petersburg Station’s medical facilities.

  The skin beneath her eyes was red and puffy. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I didn’t believe Sendrei to still be alive.

  “We received a ping from Jonathan a couple of days ago,” I said. “We couldn’t get a location, but as long as there’s hope, we’ll keep trying.”

  “Sendrei would not want you to risk yourselves for him. The Kroerak will surely have released him to death.”

  I hugged the small, severe woman. “I know, but that doesn’t mean we can’t hope.”

  She drew a shuddering breath and released me. “I will keep my hope. But that is not why you have visited.”

  I smiled. “True. It’s not the only reason.”

  “This place is huge,” Tabby said. She was right, the medical bay was hundreds of square meters, every bit of it fully finished.

  "I am not worthy to be given charge of these facilities. We should have a trained physician."

  “You are more than qualified,” Ada said, joining us.

  I took in a quick breath, as Ada was stripped down to her skivvies. On a normal day, it was hard to forget how beautiful she was, but standing there in small, skin-tight shorts and a narrow band around her chest, I had to work to avert my eyes.

  “Fight the good fight, precious,” Tabby whispered in my ear, placing her hand on my butt and pinching.

  “Frak,” I said, trying to do anything but look at Ada’s flawless, ebony skin.

  “Nice to be admired,” Ada grinned and turned away.

  My heart raced as she removed the black patch that sat atop her empty eye socket. It was a reminder of just how fierce she was and how far we all were willing to go for our team members.

  Ada lost her left eye in our last desperate mission to save Earth. She'd been stoic about the horrible disfigurement and had never complained. If asked, she'd tell you it was a small sacrifice for the greater good, but I knew the loss bothered her. For a pilot, vision is critical and Ada had been struggling with the loss of her stereoscopic binocular vision and a reduction of her peripheral field of view. In short, a horrible handicap. I was certain I'd heard her weeping behind closed doors on more than one occasion.

  "The procedure is simple," Flaer said. “You just need to step into the tank. I’ve already placed the eye we grew for you into the machine.”

  “Be safe,” Ada said, embracing Tabby and then me. “When you come back, I should have my vision restored.”

  Ada wasted no more time and stepped into the tank. With Flaer’s help, she donned a breathing mask. We all watched as the fluid filled the tank and Ada was gently put to sleep.

  "How many people can you take care of here?" I asked as Flaer lowered the room’s lights.

  "At capacity, Petersburg Station will host three thousand souls," Flaer said. "This medical facility was designed to care for a population twice that size."

  "Nice to have infinite funds," Tabby said.

  I shook my head. "I'm not sure if I'm in love with the idea or if I'm terrified Anino thinks we'll need a medical bay this big."

  "When will she get out?" I asked.

  "Seventy-two hours," Flaer said.

  "Hard to see her like this." Tabby placed her hand on the glass. "Get well, girl."

  I wrapped an arm around Tabby's waist. Seeing Ada in the tank brought back memories of Tabby's time there. Those were some of my darkest memories and a lump formed in my throat as they were dredged up.

  "The medical AI is predicting full recovery with a twenty percent increase in original function," Flaer said.

  "Not to complain, but twenty percent seems low," I said as we walked out.

  "Any more would cause too much of an imbalance between the right and left sides. She had the choice to replace both eyes but declined," Flaer said. "Tabitha, I have been meaning to follow up with you. How is your leg injury healing? Would you allow for a quick examination before you depart?"

  Without hesitation, Tabby unzipped her grav-suit and pulled it off. Flaer ran a med scanner over the leg, which no longer showed any evidence of a scar.

  "This synthetic skin tissue is fabulous." Flaer kneaded the calf muscle, causing Tabby to giggle as she brushed the back of her knee. "I see no evidence of your injury. Have you successfully retrained the muscles? It would have been ideal if we'd had the capacity to stimulate them during your recovery."

  “Almost one hundred percent,” Tabby said, pulling her suit back on. “You’ll take good care of Ada?”

  “Of course.” Flaer stopped at the double wide, sliding doors of the medical bay. “Safe travels.”

  “Let’s roll.” We walked through the station’s hallways to where the newly repaired Tuuq was docked.

  The plan was for Tabby and me to take Tuuq on a run to Manetra, on the planet below. We’d then sail on to the Tam
u gate and Abasi Prime where we'd deliver a bond-less, low value load and pick up Nick's parts from Bakira. Mostly, we were filling time until Intrepid was ready to sail again.

  "Establish comm, Nick."

  Nick and Marny were planet-side at the workshop, having taken the shuttle back from Petersburg Station. He was manufacturing a set of prototype stevedore bots that we'd eventually take with us when we started tracking down the missing Mars Protectorate ships.

  "Go ahead, Liam," Nick replied.

  "We're about to disembark. Anything you need from the station?"

  "We're low on steel sheet. How about twenty meters of three mil?"

  "Copy. We'll load it up and be down in thirty," I said.

  For all the bad I had to say about Tuuq, it wasn't an altogether unpleasant ship, especially after the refit. The layout was simple: a two hundred cubic meter, rectangular cargo hold sat behind a three-person bridge, separated by a short hallway with head and galley on port side and single sleeping quarters on the starboard. The ship had lacked for anything resembling exercise equipment so Tabby had installed a running track into the deck of the hallway and resistance bands into the starboard bulkhead.

  "Anything on station sensors?" I asked as I worked through the startup sequence.

  Petersburg had been tracking several Genteresk ships that had taken interest in our new station, but so far had avoided all attempts at contact. At least two of the vessels had superior speed to Tuuq and I wasn't about to set out if they were in the area.

  "Negative," Tabby answered.

  "Petersburg Station, this is Tuuq," I said.

  "Go ahead, Tuuq," Katherine LeGrande's face appeared on the forward vid-screen.

  "Requesting permission to shove off."

  "Permission granted, Captain. We're showing clear sailing. Safe travels, Liam."

  As I felt the station clamps release, I spooled up the engines and pulled away from the station.

  It seemed like forever since I'd sailed in a ship with modern inertial systems and I reveled in the familiar sensations as Zuri quickly grew in the armor glass in front of us. The burn I executed would have turned us to paste on the aft bulk head in seconds without our systems, but all we felt was a growing downward pull.