Chapter 7

August 22, 2940

Bastien tapped his fingers on the operations console and listened to the sound reverberate throughout the Bridge. He was on edge, in command at the moment, and with twenty-three crewmen wandering about Freeport Gamma Tango while presumably enjoying their shore leave. There hadn’t been any more incidents. In fact, station security hadn’t even followed up on what had occurred the previous day. Bastien found that strange but reminded himself that Senior Deputy Ashkeet had been rather unconcerned about the whole thing. Still, Bastien thought to himself, the other shoe could drop at any moment. There had been a command-level discussion after he, Dante, Noah, and Hiromi had come back aboard but Cait had decided to continue to allow the crew to visit the station, albeit with a stern warning to everyone to be careful. The console chimed and Bastien put his concerns out of mind. The latest engineering report had been filed and he wanted to know when the secondary power distribution network would be taken out of standby mode.

“Commander?” Safiya said a moment later and Bastien looked up from the screen to see that the ship’s medical chief was standing nearby. She rarely came to the Bridge and Bastien was certain she had been on the station. A quick check of his IBP showed that she had come on board a few minutes earlier and had headed right to the Bridge.

“Safiya? Everything alright?” Bastien asked.

“It is,” she answered with a nod. “I was wondering if you might have a moment to speak with someone I met on the station? He’s waiting at the primary airlock.”

Using his IBP to alert the Grace’s AI, Carpenter Boineau, that he was going to step away from the Bridge for a moment and was linking his implant to the ship's critical systems, Bastien made to follow as Safiya turned to go. On his way out, Bastien let Lieutenant Juarez, Beta Shift pilot and the next highest ranking officer on the Bridge, know that he was nominally in command should something happen. “So what’s this about?” Bastien asked as he and Safiya began making their way through the ship.

“An opportunity, I suppose,” Safiya responded. “Several of my staff and I had gone to the station to eat. While there, we overheard a conversation that piqued our interest.”

“Alright,” Bastien said.

“An alien gentleman named Mr. Aldram was trying to hire a ship. The captain he was speaking with turned him down but it had sounded like Mr. Aldram was willing to pay quite a few credits for the proposed work. I approached Mr. Aldram once he was alone and asked him about it. He was quite forthcoming.” Bastien motioned for Safiya to continue as the S-Tube’s door closed and his IBP input their destination. The system activated and the capsule started moving. “His family is in trouble and he needs a ship to go get them from his home system.”

“Really?” Bastien asked.

“It seems that there is some sort of conflict going on in the system and rescuing his family could be challenging. But knowing that our engines are unique in this region of space…” Safiya let Bastien ponder what was left unsaid.

“He was willing to pay a lot of credits?”

“I heard him offer the captain he was trying to hire one hundred fifty thousand.” The S-Tube door opened and Safiya stepped through. “I didn’t press for a lot of details and I didn’t share much about the Grace. What I told him was that I’d be happy to escort him back to the ship and let him speak with someone in command.”

Bastien nodded and, a moment later, summoned the on-duty security team to the airlock. After a brief discussion with the newly assembled crew, including the junior crewman manning the airlock itself, Bastien signaled for the security systems to be lowered and waved to the alien standing patiently across the umbilical. The man indicated his acknowledgment and strode across, entering the Grace a few seconds later.

“Mr. Aldram,” Safiya said, “this is Commander Devereaux. Commander, this is Mr. Aldram.”

“Very nice to meet you, Commander.”

“You as well,” Bastien responded as he looked over the alien. The man was tall, likely close to seven feet, and had a thin build with long gangly arms. His skin was a shade of pink bordering on purple and his head, while humanoid, seemed as if it had been compressed from the sides which gave him a very stretched visage. He had a white beard that hung down several inches past his chin and the top of his mostly bald head featured a white knot of hair that had been stylized to look like a wave. Bastien had never seen his species before. “My chief medical officer indicates you are looking to hire a ship. I’d like to know more.” Bastien motioned the large alien toward a security room off the main hall and he, Bastien, Safiya, and two crewmen from the security division entered.

“Of course,” Mr. Aldram said as he took an offered seat. Bastien and Safiya followed suit. “My family is in grave danger and I am hoping to arrange for their rescue.”

“Lieutenant Commander Asfour indicated as much,” Bastien said. “But we don’t know your people as we are relatively new to this area of space. Perhaps you can start from the beginning? Maybe tell us a bit about where you’re from?”

Mr. Aldram nodded. “Yes, yes, of course.” He paused and Bastien could see he was gathering his thoughts. “Several weeks from here is the Kingdom of Macroom; my home system. We’re a single-system constitutional monarchy ruled by my second cousin, His Royal Highness King Aklasant the Fifth. There is one Link in and out of the system and we have three primary worlds. Macroom Prime is our home planet and the capital. Ornas is the next closest planet to our star and is our largest and most populous colony. The last world we settled in was Vargas, farther away from our star and slightly smaller. There are a few colonized moons surrounding several of our gas giants and we have a rather large space-faring population spread between a few dozen large stations.”

“That’s a lot in one system,” Bastien mused out loud. “What’s your population?”

Mr. Aldram paused in thought. “I think the latest numbers I saw was somewhere around sixty-five billion?”

Bastien felt his eyebrows rise. “That’s interesting,” he said. “Our experience as a species has been that most solar systems only contain one habitable world. Maybe two, if the system is particularly unique. That, coupled with some space stations and maybe some small lunar colonies, means that populations rarely get as large as yours.” Bastien wasn’t exaggerating. Back in the Milky Way, human-controlled systems typically only topped out at a third of the Macroom system before people began to leave for new places to settle. The information he’d seen in the Syndicate database seemed to suggest a similar pattern here in this galaxy. Too many neighbors his father had once said when they’d been discussing inter-system migration over dinner.

The alien man nodded. “It’s true. Our system is quite populous. Over the last millennium or so, though, few have wanted to leave our star. My people enjoy a very high quality of life and there is a strong sense of community. There hasn’t ever been a need to colonize elsewhere.”

“My CMO indicated that there is some sort of conflict in your system, though?” Bastien probed, watching Mr. Aldram for any visual cues that might hint that the man was withholding something.

“Yes,” Mr. Aldram said with a deep sigh. “As I said, we are a constitutional monarchy and the way our government has been structured since we achieved spaceflight has remained relatively stable. The parliament serves as an advisory board to the hereditary monarch and our unwritten constitutional traditions provide a roadmap for what the monarch can and cannot do with his authority.”

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“You have hereditary leadership? Father to son?” Safiya asked when the man paused to take a breath.

“Not quite,” he said, his train of thought clearly interrupted. He paused for a moment to figure out what he wanted to say. “Sometimes the crown is passed from father to son if it appears the heir is a good candidate for it. Often, though, the hereditary aristocracy selects an appropriate candidate from their ranks to succeed an ailing or deceased king.”

“Do you ever select females to rule?” Safiya continued. “Or is the monarch always male?”

“We… have had queens in the past, yes,” Mr. Aldram said cautiously. “We prefer a male monarch due to a lot of cultural reasons but there have been periods of our history where a woman has held the throne for one reason or another. We are aware that many species we’ve encountered have female leadership and we see nothing wrong with it. It just doesn’t quite fit our… cultural norms. No offense, doctor.”

Safiya didn’t respond and Bastien found himself internally smirking. It was a good thing that none of the aliens in this galaxy knew that the crew of the Grace was made up of cadets who had not reached adulthood or the crew would likely be treated quite differently. Cait representing herself as a ship’s commander and Safiya representing herself as a ship doctor, he knew, helped ensure that unfortunate questions didn’t get asked and Bastien found himself grateful, not for the first time, that the ship’s leadership had decided to fully embrace UDAS military protocols and culture. It sold their cover story.

“The conflict?” Bastien prompted.

“Ah, yes, of course.” Mr. Aldram’s hands came together in front of his chest and he began to rub them slowly as he appeared to contemplate his next words. “Throughout our history, there have been… those among the population who have disagreed with our governmental and social structure. Attempts have been made by rogue elements to destabilize or delegitimize the monarchy. These movements have always failed and, for the most part, were never taken very seriously. Then the Revolutionary Front appeared two years ago.”

“The Revolutionary Front?” Bastien asked.

“One of those rogue elements I mentioned. Only, this group seemed well-funded, organized, and far more capable than prior iterations. They began to gather followers quickly and made it clear that their goal was a total overthrow of the natural order. Small-scale terrorist attacks took place, targeting transportation lines and agricultural facilities. Our government saw them as a nuisance, at first, but they grew bolder and bolder as weeks went by. We’d thought… well, we’d thought that the terrorism would demonstrate to the populace how unstable these rogues were but many started championing their cause. Support grew rapidly. Very rapidly.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Safiya commented.

“It wasn’t. Eight or nine months after they appeared, several technoviruses were uploaded into our power grids and governmental officials began to be targeted for kidnapping or assassination. Several attempts were made on my cousin but he survived. The military, which helped keep the peace, started fracturing and everyone was shocked when a few battalions of troops and several battleship commanders suddenly threw their weight behind the rebels. Those traitors were dealt with quickly but nothing the crown did seemed to calm the storm. More and more institutions began to break down and reports of fighting between rival civilian groups started popping up across the system. It looked like we were getting closer and closer to the inconceivable.”

“A civil war?” Bastien asked.

“Yes,” Mr. Alrdam said with a suddenly violent nod. “Our civilization has been peaceful and prosperous for nearly a thousand years. The thought that our people could fracture or that the monarchy could be overthrown…”

“Such a thing has happened to our species before,” Bastien murmured as the man’s emotions seemed to swell. He calmed at Bastien’s words. “Our species spans many systems and we are not a unified people. We have hundreds of distinct and unique governments and civilizations; some of which are radically different from one another. It’s well known that otherwise happy, safe, and productive societies can sometimes devolve into barbarism within the span of only a few years if the right conditions exist.” He nodded to Safiya. “Our people, the Avalonians, teach us when we are young that we must guard against the crumbling of society.”

“I’m afraid that such a concern was not something echoed in our own educational system,” Mr. Aldram said sadly. “We’ve always believed things would continue on as they were.”

“So, what has happened to your family?” Bastien continued.

“I am one of the few people in my government who travels out-system regularly,” Mr. Aldram responded. “I’m in our department of trade and foreign affairs, you see. When I started seeing reports of the madness of the Revolutionary Front, I sent a message back to my wife and children to go into hiding.”

“Madness?” Safiya asked. “That’s an interesting word to choose.”

“The Revolutionary Front is mad,” Mr. Aldram said with certainty. “They’ve announced that they want to totally destroy the government and put in its place a committee of their own people to restore everyone’s trust in our leadership. They say that all rights will be taken away and all property stripped from its owners. This committee will decide what jobs people will have. Whom they will marry. Where they can live. They freely execute those who oppose them and I’ve seen vids of them burning buildings to ash just because one person within voiced a dissenting opinion or a concern over their methods. They’ve started kidnapping the children of the aristocracy, forcing those of proper birth to pay exorbitant ransoms or to secretly undermine the government lest their children never be seen again. There are reports that they eat the dead and that their leadership uses banned medical tech for abhorrent experimentation. The things I’ve heard are gruesome. How else might one describe this behavior but madness?”

“Madness seems as good a word choice as any,” Bastien said before Safiya could comment. He glanced at her and she sat back without a word. The meeting was getting a bit out of hand and Bastien wanted to reign it in. “So, your family is in hiding and you are looking for a ship to go get them?”

“Yes,” Mr. Aldram said. “I know where they are and can provide you the details. I can pay well, too.”

“Then why haven’t you found anyone to do it yet? My CMO says another captain turned you down just a few hours ago.”

The alien man looked around the room and refused to meet Bastien’s eyes. He’s hiding something, Bastien thought to himself. “It’s… quite dangerous,” Mr. Aldram finally said.

“Explain.”

“Like I said, my system only has one Link so there’s only one way in and one way out. The Revolutionary Front has control of the system-side Link and Monarchist supporters hold the other side. Just prior to the communications blackout a few weeks ago, there were reports of widespread ship-to-ship combat and bombings taking place on the planets. Getting in and getting out is going to be a challenge and few, I think, want to make the attempt.” He looked to Bastien and Safiya. “But my family has done nothing wrong. My wife. My children. Please. They are innocents in this whole affair.”

“You don’t know us,” Bastien pushed. “Why did you meet with us? How do you know we could handle this mission?”

“When your doctor approached me, I immediately reached out to my contacts on the station to ask about her and this vessel.” He tapped the side of his head and Bastien saw the telltale metallic glint of an implant. His own version of an IBP, then. “There are those on Freeport Gamma Tango who sympathize with me, though they are not in a position to assist. They looked into your vessel as Doctor Asfour and I spoke. They messaged me that you are an associate of the Syndicate, which is good, and that station scans suggest your ship may be capable in a battle.” Bastien knew that the Grace had been scanned when they entered the system so it was not a surprise that Freeport Gamma Tango had evaluated their tactical capabilities. “I believed, based on that information, that it was worth speaking to.”

“And why would you trust us?” Safiya asked. “If your family is in such danger, why trust a people and a ship you’ve never met?”

Mr. Aldram didn’t answer. Bastien did. “He doesn’t have a lot of options. My guess is that he’s been looking for a ship for a while and hasn't gotten any traction. Am I right, Mr. Aldram?” The man nodded slowly, confirming Bastien’s theory.

“And the fact that you are connected to the Syndicate,” Mr. Aldram added. “That means that you are trustworthy. The Syndicate has an excellent reputation and I have worked with them many times in the past. If they value you and your ship, that is high praise.”

“Why not ask a Syndicate vessel for assistance, then?” Bastien inquired.

“I did. They turned me down. It was too dangerous.”

“So how would we do this, if we wanted to?” Bastien asked, ignoring the statement. “How do we accomplish what everyone else thinks is too dangerous?”

“I have a plan,” Mr. Aldram said with what sounded like a brittle confidence.

“I’m sure,” Bastien commented. “Alright, Mr. Aldram. I’m going to take this to the captain and we’ll have a discussion. I’m not going to promise anything. In fact and in full disclosure, I’m going to advocate that we turn you down.” The alien opened his mouth to protest but Bastien held up his hand. “I sympathize. I do. But I have a duty to this ship and what you’ve told me, while awful, does not inspire me to put my crew at risk. My security team will see you out and we will be in touch soon.” Bastien stood and Safiya, after glancing over at Bastien with an unreadable face, followed. Mr. Aldram stood slowly and nodded.

“I… I appreciate it, Commander.”

*****

“That was a bit harsh,” Safiya said after the man had departed the ship. “Telling him that you were going to advise the captain not to assist him was an unnecessary blow.”

Bastien squared his shoulders. “I meant it, Safiya. This sounds like a mess and one that, as he said, is dangerous. Not something we need to get involved in and I don’t want to get his hopes up.”

“I can understand that,” she responded quietly. “But hope is important, is it not?”