Chapter Eighteen
Making Port
“I.P.A.S. Fair Weather requesting permission to dock,” Prim called.
They were orbiting a distant moon on the far side of the system from where they actually needed to be. The temporary foundry complex stood out on the barren surface like a boil. Ugly, orange-colored metal marked with black slashes formed a crude factory on the airless rock, with metal-framed landing pads scattered around the outside like a strange wreath.
They had already been in orbit for several hours as many other ships moved into and out of the bays below, and they had yet to receive a response to their hails.
Nothing, not even a ‘go away’ or a ‘wait.’
“Try once more, then we are getting out of here,” Crush said, slamming his fist against the arm of his chair in irritation.
“I repeat, this is I.P.A.S. Fair Weather, carrying a shipment of ore for delivery, requesting permission to dock.”
“I.P-Ass Whatever, this is Refinery control. Shut the fuck up and wait. You are not a known ship, and you are not a known Captain. You will wait until every other Confederated Planets ship has unloaded before we even THINK about letting you land.” The smarmy voice snapped over the comm line.
“Understood, Refinery Control,” Crush jumped onto the line. “Load will be listed as refused, and formal fillings for breach of contract will be forwarded. We will not return to bother you again.”
Prim smiled as she cut the line, and Berenice looked at him to see if he was serious. He was, so he nodded, and she fired off the paperwork in seconds.
“Tri, bring us around and take us back. Let’s see if there is another refinery out here that wants this ore.”
“What about your mission?” Colby asked, looking worried.
“This is how we get it done,” Crush waved the worries away.
“Breaking orbit,” Tri called as the Fair Weather curved away from the moon.
“Incoming call from the Refinery,” Prim noted. “Shocker.”
“Ignore it,” Crush said with a chuckle. “Paperwork’s already filed.”
They made it halfway back to the jump point before a patrol craft diverted toward their position.
“I see it,” Crush called before Sec could finish opening his mouth to warn them. “Let it come.” He watched the blip move closer until it was within the standard scan range of a commercial freighter. “Initiate comm link with the approaching patrol.”
“No need,” Prim sighed. “They beat us to it.”
“On the main screen, please,” Crush leaned back in his chair, letting his shoulders tense up and making sure his knuckles whitened where he gripped the chair.
“Fair Weather, this is Falling Waters System Police. You are ordered to heave to and prepare for inspection immediately.” The patrol vessel’s Captain was young, his uniform buttons gleaming where he polished them so often.
“Acknowledged, I am formally requesting the reason for this interdiction in accordance with—” Crush began.
“The reason is because I said so!” The man said, glaring at the screen in an attempt to be intimidating.
“In accordance with Interstellar Trade Ordinance fifteen point three,” Crush finished pointedly. “Which states all local police must state a reason for the stopping of any craft in their system with proof of reasonable suspicion available to third party investigators, should a later complaint be raised.”
The officer flushed, his eyes darting off to one side as if he was worried about how he looked to someone outside the range of the comm’s pickup. He licked his lips and then tried to resume his glaring.
It was like a puppy glaring at a grizzly bear, but Crush supposed there was no way for the kid to know that.
“You are suspected of attempting to leave the system with a load belonging to the Falling Waters Clan. This would constitute theft of the load, and your ship could be detained, seized, or even destroyed.”
“Ah, I see,” Crush let his shoulders relax. “I see the confusion, Officer. We were contracted to deliver the load to the nearby refinery, but they refused a timely delivery and defaulted on the contract. We are transmitting all necessary paperwork to confirm,” He nodded to Prim, “Now.”
“Hold position, Fair Weather,” the officer said, “We will review the documents.”
“Understood,” Crush nodded. “Helmsman, all stop.”
“All stop,” Tri replied.
“Fair Weather, you are clear to proceed,” The officer looked calm, but a bead of sweat was rolling down his forehead. “However, the Clan would consider it a signal of good intent for you to turn around and deliver the cargo.”
“Understood,” Crush plastered a conflicted look on his face. “Could we request an alternate delivery point? The controller was…”
“He’s a raging asshole,” the officer said simply. “Very well, sending coordinates for a drop point further into the system. Thank you for your cooperation.”
“Of course, Officer,” Crush nodded, and the comm line closed.
“I have the new drop point,” Prim grinned. “Much further inside the system.”
“Tri, take us in.” Crush nodded.
“Can I ask a question now?” Colby asked.
“Sure,” Crush rotated his chair to face the man.
“What was the point of all that?” Colby said, “What if they just let us leave?”
“The second one first,” Crush explained. “If they let us leave, we would sell the load back to the original supplier at half cost and then take another delivery to anywhere else. That way, we can build a history in the Confederated Planets that these dicks can check on.”
“Okay,” Colby nodded. “Makes sense.”
“Right, but it’s slow.” Crush nodded. “I’d rather get back to the Imperium before they finish building this thing.”
“Or we die of old age,” Sec sniggered.
“Right,” Crush nodded. “So we make a big noise, not waiting until we leave the system before we file the papers, ignore the attempts to bring us back, and wait for them to send someone to stop us.”
“Risky,” Colby muttered.
“Only if you have something to hide,” Crush noted.
“Which we do,” Colby insisted.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“You want to know the easiest way to spot someone trying to hide something?” Crush asked. “You look for someone acting like they have something to hide.”
Colby frowned for a second and then seemed to get it.
“So, the best way to prove we can be trusted was to make it seem like we were leaving in a huff?” He asked.
“Exactly,” Crush smiled. “Running ore, it would have taken us ages to get known enough to be allowed in-system.”
“So why not insist on leaving the system this time? Or even just sell the cargo back like we said before”? Colby asked.
“You ran cargo, right?” Crush asked.
“I did. In fact, that is pretty much all I do these days.”
“So, you have a load of bulky, unrefined ore in your hold and are in the same situation…” Crush prompted.
“Better to bite the barrel and just get the delivery over with, then leave with an empty hold.” Colby shook his head. “It’s weird. I would expect spies to act more… low-key.”
“So would everyone else,” Crush turned back to face the front. “And long may they continue to think that.”
“Yeah,” Quad laughed. “Anyone acted this honestly in Imperium space, and Remy would have them locked in a box already.”
/===<<<>>>===\
Their course took them to the third planet in the system. A series of refineries were placed in orbit, the dense clouds of smog around them reminding Crush of his time on FIG-Seven. It already seemed like a lifetime ago, but it was probably less than a year or two.
“I.P.A.S. Fair Weather requesting permission to dock,” Prim called.
“This is Orbital Refinery Platform Six; docking request granted,” a tired voice replied immediately. “Take bay three, and please tell me you have someone to help unload the thing.”
“We can do that, ORP-Six,” Crush replied. “Docking in ten minutes… Mark.”
“Marked and locked.”
Tri slowed their approach to ensure they arrived precisely on time, sliding the freighter into the bay and touching down just as the countdown hit zero. Crush joined the others in helping unload the cargo, delivering everything in short order. They piled everything in place before the Cargo Master even arrived, managing to empty the holds of all but the odd bit of loose ore in less than an hour.
Crush made sure to have his people sweep the deck while he and Berenice handled the receipts and signed off on the payment.
“Thanks for that,” the Cargo Master nodded to the clean-up. “Saves my boys some work.”
“No problem,” Crush nodded. “I’ve worked docks enough to know how much the little things help.”
“Oh-ho! We got another dockie who hopped onto a passing ship, do we?” He winked.
“Nope,” Crush beamed. “I bought one.”
“Good for you,” He gave the Fair Weather another look over. “And that other one clinging on top there?”
“New model,” Crush said, drawing himself up proudly. “I plan on getting into the Express game.”
“Tough racket, that,” He sucked his teeth for a moment, “Say, you lot headed back to the ore bucket?”
“That the planet this lot came from?” Crush asked.
“Sure is. How about you run a load of empty carriers back there? It isn’t much money, but if you’re headed that way anyway…” He shrugged.
They pushed back an hour later, holds full of the ore crates, and made a beeline for the jump point.
“Now what?” Colby asked nervously.
“Now we do this for a few trips, make a few connections.” Crush leaned back and stretched. “We need to wait for them to come to us with more.”
And so, they did. For the next week, they did nothing but loop runs from the ‘ore bucket’ to the refinery platforms and back again, racking up over ten runs at that time and getting to know a few of the local Cargo Masters. Colby was climbing the walls by the time they were at seven runs, offering to go and chat to people here and there, but Crush insisted no one speak to anyone other than the Cargo Masters and the Contract Officers back at the bucket.
The local police were sharp, and they were stopped several times, but they always had the paperwork. Slowly, the number of stops dropped until they were simply pinged and ignored.
To keep him distracted, Crush assigned Colby to work with Berenice whenever possible and Quad when she wasn’t. Even Cara had a few shifts, giving the I.P.A. man a few training sessions to ensure he would be able to handle himself in a fight. He was no Marshall, but he held his own pretty well. It turned out that the Independent Planetary Alliance had some pretty novel martial arts moves, and Colby was a bit of an amateur follower.
One week turned to two, and things started to feel a little slow to Crush until the sounds of combat woke him in the middle of the night. He was out of his bunk, pistol in hand, before his eyes had fully opened, the nanites dumping adrenaline into his system and waking him in less than a second.
He pounded down the corridor, only to stop and sigh when he saw the open door to the bunk Berenice and Prim shared.
“Cara, you need to sort this out,” Crush called over the comm line to the bridge, where she had the watch.
Less than a minute later, Cara stalked down the corridor and launched herself into the room with a snarl. There were two heavy thumps, and she emerged again, two contrite and badly bruised crewmembers trailing her.
Even as they stood there, trying to avoid the glares from Cara and Crush, the cuts and bruises were fading away.
“Speak,” Cara slammed the flat of her hand against the wall, making both women jump.
“Merchant Slutty was making eyes at Colby,” Prim snapped.
“And Scanner Ho-bag here was drooling on her console!” Berenice replied tartly. “So what?”
“Oh, come on,” Cara groaned. “This can not be because of a man.”
The two women glowered at each other.
“Okay, screw it,” Crush sighed. “I was hop—”
“She touched the seal,” Prim snapped. “When we got back from the last battle, she touched the seal.”
“I what?” Berenice frowned. “That’s why you are being such a cow all the time? Because I touched the Marshall’s Seal when we got back from fighting for our lives?”
“You!” Prim rounded on her, eyes glowing so brightly they showed through the artificial eyes. “Do! Not! TOUCH! THE! SEAL!”
Cara deflated, the anger dying from her eyes.
“I thought it was tradition,” Berenice explained. “You all do it.”
“You weren’t there,” Prim snapped. “You don’t even know what it—” Prim’s head snapped back as Berenice started to glow through her skin, face twisted in rage even as she started to cry.
“I wasn’t there? I wasn’t there?” Berenice advanced on Prim, the Cent backing away in shock. Even Crush was stunned. It was like someone had ignited Berenice’s insides. “I lost my arms there. I lost my eye there. I was there, you metal bitch. I saw him fall. I saw his face as he lay there, and I bled out.” She stopped, the glow dying in her skin as she continued in a whisper. “I saw her come, too. I saw Paren when she found him, and when she pumped the nanites into me, I swore I would make it worth it. All that blood, all that death, all that loss.”
“But, we knew everyone who was there,” Prim stopped, frowning.
“No, you didn’t,” Berenice sighed. “You were too busy trying to nail plants to the fucking ceiling.”
Prim’s eyes went wide for a moment.
“Ooops?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Crush turned around, “I’m going back to bed.”
/===<<<>>>===\
After almost a month of running ore, they finally got a new delivery job. It was a load of metal alloys destined for one of the construction yards, and Crush took it after a round of heavy negotiation. The restrictions on ships moving further into the system were pretty heavy, and they had to pay a premium for ‘Security Clearance’ for their ship. The background check passed with flying colors, considering they were using a ship ID with true pedigree, which was the entire reason they got the real thing in the first place. That, plus nearly forty runs of ore, was all they needed to get the pass. The clearance itself took a dent out of Berenice’s profits, and Crush noted she didn’t even bat an eyelash at it. She hadn’t complained about all the missed opportunities for better-paying runs they might have found elsewhere, either.
He allowed himself a smug smile at that. She was a born trader who saw a deal the same way a predator saw a wounded beast, but her heart was a Marshall, just like he had thought.
“Construction Yard Beta, coming into scan range,” Sec called out. “Weird-looking thing.”
He wasn’t wrong.
The Confeds clearly lacked something large enough to build an Imperium Class ship, which wasn’t surprising considering no one did until Nellie built the first one. They had done the best they could.
Their answer seemed to have been stacking several of the things together and forming them into an extensive network. It looked a bit like a spiderweb stretched over the vague shape of the Harbinger. Inside, a series of skeletal fingers reached out from completed sections. They were headed for a yard on the starboard bow section, which was one of the least completed sections. It gave their sensors a clear view inside, and Sec worked with Prim to start mapping the internal structure while Quad analyzed what they could see of the completed hull.
“Something’s wrong,” Berenice said from her console. “I’m looking at this alloy we are hauling, and it’s just…”
“What?” Crush asked.
“It’s shit,” Berenice shrugged. “Complete, utter shit.” She tapped the console a few more times. “There are impurities all through this stuff, and the internal structure is too weighted toward blocking energy penetrating the metal. It’s brittle; no twist or give to it. Hit this with a rail gun round, and it’ll shatter like glass.”
“File the information for now,” Crush nodded. “Sec, Prim, you have another minute with the sensors, then we shut down the advanced stuff.”
“Boss!” Sec groaned.
“You heard me,” Crush shook his head. “All the extras get turned off. We need to pass any scans they have on this thing.”
“I.P.A.S. Fair Weather, you will be escorted into the dock. Do not change course,” the automated voice over the comm line made Colby jump. “This is a secure dock; please have authorization paperwork available when disembarking.”
Crush flexed his hands once before forcing himself to relax. He pressed a button, sliding a partition over the painting on the back wall, just in case. It was time to go into the belly of the beast.