Sol (The Silver Ships Book 5) (40 page)

“Yes, Admiral,” Shimada said excitedly.

Reiko commed her four remaining captains, congratulated Captain Irving on his temporary promotion, and sent them to help rescue the men and women of the damaged destroyers. The senior judiciary officers were grateful for the help, especially when they saw that their rescuers were unaccompanied by Haraken fighters. The specter of the strange fighters would forever haunt the memories of those who fought them.

Commodore Irving communicated to the defeated commodores and captains that Tribune Woo and Space Admiral Chong guaranteed that the death penalty and life sentences were off the table for any convictions. Officers would be tried and the judgments would range from suspended sentences up to twenty-year work terms. Enlisted crew members would be interviewed and either reassigned or dismissed from service, no charges brought. The news relieved much of the anxiety of the defeated personnel.

Woo and Chong had news for Nikki Fowler.

“You have a tremendous amount of space junk out there that belongs to the military, Station Director Fowler,” Woo said. “Maybe we can make a deal and hire you and your people to process it.”

“That depends, Tribune Woo. What sort of proposal do you have in mind?” Nikki asked. She was enjoying her newfound authority and meant to ensure that her station wasn’t on the wrong end of the stunstik when it came to any deal.

In the end, Nikki received the claimant rights to any warship debris. The smelting stations were anxious to get their hands on the high-grade materials used to build the warships, and Nikki used the proceeds to pay the tug and reclamation captains. A significant portion of the profits was earmarked for transfer to Admiral Chong’s reclamation accounts, but Nikki was ecstatic over the opportunity for the station. She began devising schemes on how the station might be expanded.

Following the celebrations, stationers got back to work, and an incident occurred that marked a turning point in rebel–militia relationships, which had progressed from a fragile state of truce in the first days to working relationships.

The rebel engineers and techs, who had adopted the militia youths they first saw screwing up the resurfacing of the station’s bulkheads the day the rebels came out, were breaking work for midday meal.

As a habit, the militia youths expected to return to the station’s administration offices for their food. This time, the engineers decided they didn’t wish to wait while the boys traveled halfway around the station when one of the Haraken food dispensaries was near at hand.

Stepping into the meal room, the militia boys stumbled to a halt when the room of rebels stopped eating and stared at them. But one of the quick-witted engineers slapped his fellow rebel’s shoulder and declared in a loud voice, “See. I told you those medical nanites are making us look so pretty we’d stop traffic.” His comment broke the room up in laughter. The two engineers took the moment of levity, linked arms with the militia youths, and headed toward the food dispensers.

Thereafter, many of the rebels seized on the jest of being pretty as the excuse to dine with militia personnel. As one rebel engineer put it to a pair of sergeants at morning meal, “With my nanites, I will look even more handsome if I sit next to you common people.”

The militia veterans didn’t have the heart to tell the rebels that they had resembled wasted refugees when they emerged into the outer ring. The medical nanites were of great help to the rebels — but only to return to the land of the living.

Whatever the excuses, the Méridien concept of dining together to prevent isolation due to their implants was serving to heal the generation-old rifts between rebels and UE militia.

Franz finally got his date. With a smile on his face and a kick in his stride, Franz made his way to pick up Reiko at the temporary station quarters extended to her by Nikki. Her squadron, in the command of Commodore Irving, had left the station days ago. Franz expected Reiko to be wearing her uniform. It was the only clothing she possessed — all she had on her when she was carried from the destroyer.

But as Reiko’s cabin door slid aside, she stepped out to greet Franz wearing sky-blue, thigh-high boots in a soft material and a cream shirt dress that just met the top of the boots. The top was cinched at the waist by an integrated belt, dialed to a blue-green that complemented the boots. Her short hair was styled in soft, spikey curls.

“You’re staring, Commander,” Reiko said self-consciously, trying not to reach up and touch her hair.

“As any man should be, at this moment,” Franz said gallantly, recovering his wits. “I must say, Commodore. It’s a marvelous improvement over your environment suit.”

Reiko’s laughter, recalling the moments she spent in Franz’s lap after they escaped her doomed ship, eased the knot of tension inside her. “You better, approve, Commander. This is the result of two hours of efforts by two militia women, who insisted on helping me. If I didn’t know better, I would say our date is anticipated by the entire station.”

“May I, Reiko?” Franz said, offering his arm.

A small thrill ran through Reiko’s body at the sound of her name on Franz’s lips. She took his arm, grateful for the extra support. High heels would never have been permitted on a warship, and a little extra help keeping her balance in the unfamiliar boots was appreciated.

The couple took a short lift down to the main corridor for the walk to the restaurant Franz chose. Stationers, recognizing the pair, cleared their path, standing respectfully to the side. It made Reiko uncomfortable, but Franz was smiling and nodding, a happy man.

Just short of their destination, two figures blocked their way. For a second, Reiko flashed back to her assault, and her grip on Franz’s arm tightened. But, recognizing the twins, she relaxed. The Haraken escorts slowly and as one lowered their heads and crossed their arms to place palms over hearts.

Reiko was embarrassed that the Méridien honor was being offered to her, and she almost told the twins it wasn’t necessary.

Franz recognized Reiko’s hesitation and her moment of discomfort. “Reiko, you were willing to sacrifice yourself to save those on the station, and their loyalty is to the president, who was waiting on the station for the outcome of the battle.”

Despite Reiko’s belief that the honor wasn’t due her, she chose to treat the twins’ offer with the greatest respect. She released Franz’s arm, came to attention, and bowed gently from the waist, in a manner she remembered her great-grandmother doing. The twins immediately adopted their usual cautious stances and flowed around Franz and her like water.

“You know, Franz,” Reiko said, enjoying the opportunity to call the Haraken by his given name, “I’ve wondered about that. If your president is such an important man to you, why let him stay on the station? I mean, if worse came to worse, haul him aboard one of the carriers.”

“You have no idea what that would entail, Reiko,” Franz said, laughing at the idea.

Seated in a quiet corner of the restaurant, where the owner and his staff seemed intent on ensuring the couple received every courtesy, Reiko pursued her question. “Why risk your president?”

“It’s not a question of risking him. He chose to make a statement in this manner, and it was respected. Besides, your suggestion is fraught with danger.”

“Danger … from an unarmed man?”

“Who said he’s unarmed?” Franz replied, thinking of Alex’s twin implants and his abilities to link with his people even down to the nerve and musculature levels. “Besides, you would have to get past the twins, and I know of no one foolish enough to attempt that.”

Reiko let the subject drop. Franz’s comments just added to the mysteries surrounding the Harakens. She had seen the president in more than one skintight outfit, which the Harakens preferred, and there wasn’t a place to hide a weapon. Truth be told, she had to admit that she had looked. Well, maybe not for a weapon. The enigmatic twins were another matter. Quiet and slight did not seem to equate to dangerous, but then again, even the Harakens, save Alex, Renée, and the SADEs, deferred to them in matters of security.

The couple enjoyed a quiet conversation throughout their meal, and Reiko found the food and drink delicious. She was amused by the difference in proportions they were served. The owner appeared to anticipate Franz’s needs, which were similar to those of the president.

When they finished, Franz stood up and offered her his hand. With the effect of the evening’s drink, the high-heeled boots were becoming an exceptional challenge, and Reiko worked to stifle a giggle. She almost asked Franz to carry her, although not as he had when they ran though her destroyer.

“We haven’t paid the bill,” Reiko objected. She glanced at the table. The table’s screen was clear — no bill showing.

“Don’t look at me,” Franz replied. “When I made the reservation, the woman who answered my call asked if I was dining with Commodore Shimada, the hero of Idona.”

“She did not,” Reiko exclaimed. Franz held up his hand to her in some manner that meant nothing to her but apparently meant he was telling the truth.

At the door of the restaurant, the owner asked if everything was to their satisfaction, but he was focused on Reiko.

“Yes, it was excellent,” Reiko replied, a warm glow from the dinner and Franz’s company infusing her.

“It was our pleasure to serve you, Commodore. Nothing is too good for the hero of Idona.”

In the couple of moments, during which Reiko’s mouth hung open, Franz was able to intervene and move Reiko along before she could think of a reply.

Feeling the best she had in a couple of years, Reiko was holding Franz’s arm with both hands while they walked back down the main corridor. At one point, she pulled on his arm to attempt to bring Franz to a halt, saying, “This is us.” It was a good thing Franz was attentive to her because she was sure her pull had no effect on his momentum.

Franz looked over Reiko’s head at the signage of one of the nicest sleepovers on the station, known for its elegant suites which were favored by yacht owners. He grinned as Reiko held up a key pass, realizing she had already rented a room.

The suites were as advertised, having been remodeled after business returned to the station. Inside, Reiko pointed to the luxurious bed and said, “Sit.” She strolled toward the door, turned, slowly undid her belt, and then dropped the shirt dress and her undergarments to the floor. Picking up the room’s controller, she dimmed the lights, saying, “How do you like your heroes, Commander … with boots on or off?”

While a feeling of contentment settled over the station, the notorious privateer Dimitri Agaloo, landed the luxury yacht,
Bon Vivant
in a bay at Idona Station. He and his crew had pirated the yacht forty-two days ago at the height of the turmoil.

Dimitri calculated the yacht was good for perhaps another thirty to sixty more days before he would be pressed to procure another ship once the rim’s databases were updated with the reported loss of the
Bon Vivant
. Such was the life of a privateer — take a ship, dump the passengers, maybe keep some women or pretty boys, and stay ahead of the militia and naval records.

It would have been smart of Dimitri to disguise his appearance, but he was a vain man, and he was in love with the images of ancient pirates, wearing his beard in braids and decorating them with semiprecious stones. Dimitri assumed that his reputation would protect him. His last visit to Idona was over a year ago and the pickings at that time were slim, to say the least. Since then, Dimitri and his crew spent the time roaming the moons of Saturn and Uranus.

Word reached Dimitri that the Harakens would soon be leaving Idona and the station was prospering, which had brought the privateer prospecting. Walking through the sub-level corridors and taking a lift to the station’s main corridor demonstrated to Dimitri just how much Idona had changed. It was clean, bright, and credits were flowing, making Dimitri’s hopes of some valuable scores soar.

What the privateer was unaware of was how much Idona had changed — shop owners and stationers were no longer the divisive and frightened individuals of a year ago. They had rebuilt their station and their lives together, adopting Idona as their home, and were willing to defend it.

Calls, originating along Dimitri’s path, flowed into militia administration headquarters, and when the privateer turned to enjoy a shop display, the reflection revealed four militia noncoms behind him. Dimitri attempted to brush off the militia with an innocent statement, while reaching to his ear implant to warn his crew, but swift hands pinned his arms and a metal-braided bag was slipped over his head, blocking comm calls to and from his ear implant.

Moments later, a squad of Haraken troopers and Lieutenant Morris surrounded the
Bon Vivant
and the crew was ordered to exit the yacht one by one. As they came down the gangway ramp, each was searched and taken into custody. The interior of the ship revealed three traumatized individuals, two girls and a boy, who had been severely used by the crew, and Terese and her team were called to attend the victims.

Lieutenant Morris requested the Haraken troopers march the privateer down the main corridor in full view of the stationers, and people came out from the shops, sleepovers, and restaurants to applaud the capture. More than one individual called out “well done” to Lieutenant Morris, who realized how much the station had come to mean to her.

Patrice Morris sat down at her small multipurpose desk and stared into the mirror. She had stripped out of her uniform and taken her three-minute allotted shower. It was her thought to go out tonight, to celebrate, but not as a militia officer — as a woman.

Since arriving at Idona, Patrice faithfully followed Captain Yun’s first day’s advice. He said, “Wear your uniform at all times, Morris, when you leave your cabin. It’s your best defense. Nobody bothers a militia officer, not even the rats.” It was days before Patrice learned that the rats were the rebel teenagers.