Sol (The Silver Ships Book 5) (24 page)

“None, Admiral. The Harakens sent only fighters against us.”

Portland was considering his options when his commander called out, “Admiral, the civilian ships are diving below the ecliptic.”

Right on the heels of the commander’s announcement came the defense officer’s warning, “Admiral, we have incoming … lots of incoming.”

“Missiles?” the admiral asked.

“Hard to tell, Admiral. They’re small, and they’re coming fast.”

The captain was in the process of calling the ship to battle stations when the defense officer yelled, “They’ve stopped.”

“Clarify,” Portland yelled.

“They’re fighters, not missiles, Admiral.”

“Position and distance?” the commander asked.

“Um … they’re directly in front of us, Commander. Looks to be almost 400 fighters, 100K kilometers out, and they’re just sitting there in a wall formation.”

“Put it on the monitor,” the admiral ordered.

The view of precisely spaced Haraken fighters was no sooner on screen than the ships began a strange dance. First two vessels moved, one sliding back and the other forward, and shifted to take each other’s position. The movements were precise, mechanical, not as any human might fly. Then eight fighters completed the same eerie maneuver. Soon after, all the ships were participating in the dance without a missed step or collision. Just as quickly as it started, the maneuvers ended, and the effect on those watching throughout the UE fleet was as intended.

“Maybe they’re not human,” the ship’s comms officer whispered to the female pilot beside him. “I mean maybe there aren’t any pilots in those ships so they wouldn’t care about their losses.” The comms officer needn’t have whispered. In the silence of the bridge, his comment was overheard by all, and it only echoed the same thought that was on the minds of every bridge officer and crew member.

* * *

Franz sent, his laughter following his comment.

Lucia sent back.

Franz replied.


It wasn’t long before Lucia got her wish. First the battleship, then the cruisers, and then the destroyers turned around and set a new course, which the Harakens determined was a vector for a return to Saturn.

* * *

The rescue of Sheila by the
Rêveur
was underway even before the battles were finished. With comms still operational in the fighter, Captain Cordova and Z were able to communicate to Sheila that they were en route to her. Sheila’s terse reply is best left to the imagination. The tumbling of her fighter was wreaking havoc on her inner ear, and she was attempting to limit the effect through the use of her implant with some success.

Using the same method employed to retrieve Lt. Dorian’s severed Dagger eleven years ago, the
Rêveur
was brought alongside Sheila’s truncated fighter, and Mickey and his people caught the tumbling craft with beams and pulled it into a bay.

Once the bay was pressurized, the crew, composed mostly of Méridiens, took their time extracting Sheila, a New Terran who massed twice any one of the crew members, who was dizzy from her ordeal. When Sheila’s feet were firmly on the deck, she waved off the support, and the three crew members released her. Sheila promptly pitched forward into Mickey’s arms, fortunate that a New Terran was handy to catch a New Terran.

“Not often I have a woman fall into my arms, Commodore,” Mickey quipped.

“Happy to be able to fall into anyone’s arms, Mickey,” Sheila shot back. “But don’t let it go to your head.” Sheila regained her feet and touched Mickey’s face with her fingertips in appreciation.

While making her way to the bridge, a sense of the past overcame Sheila. Eleven years ago, she was a pilot aboard the newly repaired
Rêveur
, chatting to Tatia about the possibility of becoming a ranking officer, little guessing what the future held for her. Gaining the bridge, she walked up to Z and planted a long, full kiss on the SADE’s mouth.

“Put that one in your crystal memory, my friend. Label it as ‘a thank you from a grateful pilot.’”

Captain Cordova was wearing a gentle smile and a hopeful look in his eye, and Sheila laughed. “Yes, you too, Captain,” Sheila said, crossing the bridge and delivering another kiss.

“One could wish for a third century,” the white-haired captain said with a grin.

Z sent privately, while Sheila exited the bridge to change,

-19-

The news of the resounding defeat of Portland’s fleet circulated through the station like air rushing out through a hull breach. Over and over, the message was repeated: four UE warship squadrons destroyed and one Haraken fighter lost but the pilot recovered.

The population of Idona Station — owners, visitors, miners, militia, and rebels — were all having the same thoughts. The Harakens, for all their efforts to engender a peaceful environment for the prosperity of the station and its visitors, reacted with incredible ferocity against anyone who threatened them.

The arrival of the five civilian ships, which were drafted to be Portland’s sacrificial shield, brought a different twist to the station’s circulating stories, especially from the captains’ viewpoints. They were the ones who received the threats directly from Admiral Portland and knew the consequences of disobeying them. As far as the five civilian captains were concerned, the Harakens could do anything to Portland’s fleet so long as they rescued the captains’ crews, passengers, and ships — all of which were the captains’ responsibilities.

* * *

There were a few stationers who were indifferent to the demise of the UE fleet.

Z, returning to the station, exited an airlock to find his two admirers waiting for him.

“Welcome back, Z,” Edmas said, extending his hand for the intricate thumb-lock the rebels used to identify one another.

“Greetings, Edmas,” Z replied, twisting his thumb delicately in Edmas’s grip.

“Milt … I mean welcome, Z,” Jodlyne added, trying to encircle Z’s waist in a hug.

“I’m pleased to see the two of you as well,” Z replied, surprised yet pleased to be greeted in such a manner.

“Will you tell us about the battle, Z?” Edmas asked.

“No, my young friends, I’m not … proud of my achievements in this regard. Let us speak of other things,” Z replied, guiding the teenage rebels down the corridor.

* * *

Once the travelers returned to the carriers, Julien and Cordelia transferred to Idona. They were walking the main corridor when they heard cries of, “Cordelia, Cordelia,” and the rebel children led by Jason and Ginny raced up to them.

Cordelia snatched up Ginny as the other children crowded around her and hugged her body. The smile on her face was as wide as her synth-skin would stretch.

“I nere good,” Ginny declared.

“I hear well,” Cordelia corrected softly. Having been deaf for so long, Ginny was still mastering her speaking skills.

“Look,” Jason said, indicating the initial growth of hair where his scalp was burned, the skin already rejuvenated, and Cordelia dutifully rubbed it and praised its growth.

One of the young boys, a sensitive child who rarely spoke, noticed no one touching Julien. He eased over to the SADE and reached up his little hand to grasp Julien’s. The two, SADE and child, exchanged small smiles, while Cordelia and the other children chatted happily about the happenings on the station.

* * *

The great windfall for Portland’s defeat fell to the salvagers, but most of them held back, frightened of the Harakens’ diabolic weapon, the nanites, which they believed might remain in the salvage area.

One enterprising young man by the name of Jorre had made a good living in the asteroid field, but the lonely existence wasn’t suited to him. Jorre took his small aggregate of funds and invested in a salvage tug. He had one initial success with a stranded yacht, but since then he was spending credits on ship services faster than he was making them. His station account was slowly but surely running out of funds, and it appeared he would soon be headed back to the mining belts if more work wasn’t forthcoming. His problem was that much of his competition was well-established and had the inside track on notices of opportunities. When word of Portland’s defeat reached him, Jorre sought the one kind of individual he thought could help him.

Cordelia was the first SADE Jorre located. “Excuse me, Ma’am,” Jorre said, twisting his secondhand cap in his hand. “I’m a tug captain, and I’m wondering if you could guide me toward any potential salvage of Portland’s fleet. I mean if it’s safe to do so now … what with the nanites out there.”

The question halted Cordelia’s processes for a moment.
Was this what it felt like, Julien, when you met your tug captain?
Cordelia thought, eyeing the nervous young man. “Of the four squadrons, Captain, two are no more than dust. However, two destroyer squadrons are available for salvage, and, yes, it is safe to retrieve them. The nanites were inactive within hours after the defeat of the squadrons. What is the name of your tug?”

“The
Homeward Bound
, Ma’am,” Jorre replied.

Julien, you are not going to believe the impossibility of this coincidence,
Cordelia thought. She located the vessel, surprised by its diminutive size, and transferred the relevant data to the ship’s computer. “Your vessel has all the telemetry you require to reach the closest debris sections to the station, Captain. Good fortune,” said Cordelia, bestowing a generous smile on the young man.

“Thank you, Ma’am. Thank you kindly,” Jorre said, extending his hand.

Cordelia reciprocated and found her hand firmly gripped and shaken by both of Jorre’s hands.
So young and so earnest,
Cordelia thought, watching the youthful captain hurry away.

Jorre was the first salvage tug on-site at the remains of Portland’s delta squadron. But other salvagers would have taken note of his vector and concluded there was opportunity. The first section Jorre located was the entire bridge of a destroyer. It represented a tremendous find with its concentration of electronics and exotic metals. One voice in his head kept saying, “Don’t be greedy, Jorre. This will be tough enough to haul by itself back to the ore smelting station, and competition is coming.” But another voice said, “Think of the profits if we can recover another big piece.”

And, as fortune would have it, Jorre located a destroyer’s massive rear, engines and cowls, another great find. He towed the engine section over to his bridge piece, and reality sank in. His salvage had more mass than he had fuel to haul it for delivery. No credits were offered by the smelters on spec; credits were paid on delivery and only after careful evaluation of the salvage. Sitting on his tug’s bridge, Jorre made his second smart decision since searching out a SADE.

“Idona Station, this is the
Homeward Bound
, requesting the Haraken SADE, Cordelia.”

“Message received
Homeward Bound
, please hold.”

Jorre didn’t have time to sip his hot caf before he heard, “Greetings, young Captain. I see by your tug’s data that you’ve made quite a haul. That’s an enormous mass for your vessel, isn’t it?”

“I think I might have gotten in over my head, Ma’am, but I was wondering if you would help me. Could you tell me which of these two sections would be the more valuable salvage?”

“One moment, Captain.”

While Jorre waited, he checked his telemetry and saw seven good-sized tugs, each quite larger than his, making their way toward his position. The closest would arrive within another day and a half and then it might become an issue of who had the larger tug. He knew he couldn’t hold on to both salvage pieces. Then it struck Jorre that he was no longer on the station, and the Harakens didn’t hold sway out here in the debris field. There was the distinct possibility that he wouldn’t be able to keep either section.

“Jorre, I have a freighter captain on the comms who is interested in your salvage,” Cordelia said. “You can discuss your finds with him. Good fortune, young Captain.”

Jorre sat up quickly to respond to the comm, excitedly discussing his salvage with Captain Liston. The old captain was a savvy negotiator and quickly realized that Jorre couldn’t deliver the two destroyer sections with his small tug. But rather than take advantage of the situation, the freighter captain made a fair offer for the salvage on-site in the debris field. It was less than Jorre would have earned had he transported his salvage to the smelting station located 50K kilometers outward of Idona, but, under the circumstances, it was a generous offer. Of course, uppermost in the freighter captain’s mind after learning of the opportunity from the Haraken SADE were her stern words, “I like this boy, Captain. Are we understood?”

Captain Liston did have some final words for Jorre. “Understand, young man, this offer depends on you having rights to those two sections when I arrive. That means you and only you and your tug are standing by those two sections. Do we have an agreement?”

Jorre readily agreed, even though he had no way of figuring out how to do that. The first of the large hauler-tugs that would arrive was captained by the notorious Tarek, a man known for intimidating salvagers into giving up their claims to him for small finder’s fees. There was no asteroid field in which to hide his finds, and Jorre knew his tug and the two destroyer sections were already on Tarek’s screen.

A day later, Jorre watched Tarek’s gigantic tug slow as it approached him, and all thoughts of saving his prizes were gone.

“Well, Jorre boy, I thank you for guarding my bounty for me,” Tarek said over the comm. “I’ll just take a look at what we have here before I calculate your finder’s fee.”

“Captain Tarek, your claim to this salvage is refuted by the
Homeward Bound
, which was the first tug on-site.”

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